My Kingdom Come
by Sonnenprinzessin
Summary: The elite was silent for a moment, looking somberly reflective: "It doesn't matter now. It's too late." At that, Goku turned his head and focused his gaze on the Saiyan prince for a long moment, pensive and momentous, and when he raised his voice again it was quiet but firm, traced by a hopeful conviction: "Who knows. Your kingdom might yet come one day, Vegeta."
1. Conception

My creativity awoke after having rewatched DBZ from start to finish during the past couple of months. Now that I've arrived at the end of this amazing, all-time-favorite anime of mine, I was left with the same feeling I had when I first watched it all those many years back. The fighting is awesome of course, so are the characters and the plotlines despite the flaws and holes and imperfections here and there. We still know and love it just the way it is, but! There's one thing that comes entirely too short in the series, and that is the romance and the relationships -laughs-

Personally, while having nothing against MalexMale relationships and having gone through a phase where Vegeta/Goku counted to my favorites, I have always loved the original DBZ pairs. Goku/Chichi and Vegeta/Bulma are high up top, while Gohan/Videl and Eighteen/Krillin are also quite the nice image. I have always absolutely adored Piccolo as well, and while him getting paired up with other fighters was nice and all, my fantasy embraces the thought of him being a part of a hetero couple just as much.

So, what can you expect out of this fiction? Fights, adversaries and suspense of course, but also lots and lots of hetero romance. If that's not something you like reading in the DBZ universe, you're still welcome to take a look out of curiosity - maybe you'll come to enjoy the taste of it =) This story will mainly revolve around Goku/Chichi, Vegeta/Bulma and Piccolo/OC although you needn't worry, I'm not prone to writing Mary Sues who can blow a Saiyan away with a flick of their wrist -laughs- I'll try to keep this nice and entertaining, and realistic by DBZ standards. This is also going to be an alternative timeline starting from the point of right before the appearance of androids, so rest assured that I won't just be retelling the anime with slight changes and additions. This is going to be a completely new scenario!

Everything else is probably going to explain itself as I go, so I'll stop my babbling now and let you read. Be warned, we'll starting off hot and heavy because I was in that kidn of mood when I began working on this, inspired by the very few sweetly adorable scenes Goku and Chichi got throughout the anime, the most memorable for me being the episode where he wakes up after beating his heart disease. This is rated M for a reason, alongside the occasional gore and violence there is going to be the occasional smexy times as well x3

So! Here goes the prolog!

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><p><strong>My Kingdom Come<strong>

**Prolog**

**Conception**

His training had ended late this night - again. The fearful androids were to appear in barely two days and he was looking forward to that as much as he was nervous about it. The battle was promising to be a fierce one, at least if he were to believe future Trunks. It was so weird to think about that, not only the fact of time travel but the fact of Vegeta and Bulma having a kid. He had never really taken Vegeta for a family guy or a fatherly type, though who was Goku himself to judge anybody in that aspect? Piccolo had been more of a parental figure for Gohan than he himself, he knew the boy adored his mentor no less than he did his father. It made him feel guilty on occasion, the only time he seemed to be able to spend with his son was when they trained or were getting beat up by somebody. The boy had held his own bravely on Namek, against the Ginyus, Freeza, during all the horrible events that had transpired. He wished he could give Gohan a peaceful future but every time they overcame a threat, another one arose with barely a break offered to them.

He had sent Gohan off to bed hours ago, the poor kid had been down-and-out having had his mentor and his father ganging up on him for an entire day. Piccolo had left for the lookout not fifteen minutes ago after a friendly sparring match with Goku himself; even with their current difference in power levels the Namekian was more than a worthy match. Now the earth-raised Saiyan was moving swift and soundless through his house, stopping in the bathroom for a quick shower before tossing his torn clothes off and away into the hamper, soon tiptoeing over to the bedroom in his boxers only.

He could feel Chichi's ki inside and from underneath the closed door a soft yellow shine was coming, suggesting of the beside light being on. It was a little strange, usually when he climbed into bed she was already fast asleep. Perhaps she had been reading and dozed off with the light on tonight? He didn't want to risk waking her up either way, so he pushed the door open very gingerly.

However, his wife was neither reading nor asleep - or aware that her husband had just entered the room, closing the door as silently as he'd opened it. Standing quietly in the bedroom now, Goku's onyx eyes took in the picture displayed on the covers. She was wearing her nightgown as per usual, thin straps holding the feather-light, white material on her slinky body. One of those straps had been pushed halfway down her arm while the hand attached to same arm was grasping one supple breast, kneading the fair flesh gently. Her other hand lingered on her own thigh, scratching softly over the satin material barely covering her slender leg, crumpling the silky fabric up and inching it ever higher to expose the equally pristine white of her panties.

But it was not the idea of his spouse attempting to pleasure herself, any other given day the image might have turned him on but tonight... tonight it made him frown, not because of what she was doing but because of the expression on her meekly shadowed face. She looked... unhappy. Tormented, almost; and the realization coming with that cut his heart something good.

He watched her for a moment longer, until the airy whisper of his name slipped off her lips; a soft, broken sound in between a moan and a sob. To know that it was he whom she pictured while caressing herself, forced to make love to a fantasy while the real thing was right there and still so far away... He was not only a terrible father, he was a terrible husband, too, wasn't he...? She needed him, his warmth, his love, his touch, his presence - all those things he had never really given her enough of. Especially lately, being so overly consumed with diligent preparations for yet another nerve-tingling challenge.

Hearing her voice, seeing her like this, it quite abruptly caused him to realize that he missed her, too. The real sound of that voice, tinted with pleasure instead of a pained illusion of it, the feel of her body against his, her scent, the lovely fragility of her entire being in the grasp of his strong hands... Good God, how long has it been? Too long. Way too long. He moved forward, smooth and silent like a cat.

Naturally she startled something good when she felt a weight descent onto the edge of the bed where Goku had just sat down. Chichi's dark eyes snapped open with a small gasp escaping her delicate chest, staring up at her husband her hands froze in their precarious positions on her very own body. When...? How...? How long had he been in here? Unwittingly she felt her face heat up. "G-Goku..."

A hand cupping her cheek and a thumb pressing against her rosy lips effectively hushed her, her ample bosom heaving faster breaths which made it fluctuate more noticeably beneath the halfway stripped cover of her gown. His momentous stare captivated her; both serious and tender, it was an expression she did not see often on him when he looked at her. His thumb moved, brushing over her lips to their corner. He leaned down and her heart went leaping forward.

"I..." Breaths apart, she perceived his own ghost along her skin: "Shhh..." And then he kissed her and she held her breath altogether, tensing up from head to toe in wake of the sensation. It's been so long... too long...

His lips moved against hers and she responded, tentatively at first as though afraid this was just a very vivid midnight fantasy. But it was real, oh so real, and oh so wonderful. Chichi's hand reached up, sliding over a well-crafted neck to the nape of it, giving him a mild pull. To keep him close and get him even closer, opening her pretty little mouth a crack in invitation.

An offer Goku was not going to pass out on, stemming one hand into the plush of the pillow next to her clever head as slick tongues ventured out to grind together and share familiar tastes with each other. He heard her breath hitch, a muffled sound getting lost in their kiss and it excited him, trickling in a salacious tingle through his body and down to his groin. Moving onto the bed he was soon lying down beside her, easing himself onto his forearm that would act a steadfast pillar to keep him hovering halfway above her. His other hand was free to act and it used the liberty well, settling on the delicate skin just above Chichi's knee. His palm didn't linger there too long, stroking up and pushing under her nightdress, caressing her thigh, delighted by her shivering.

He nudged her legs apart in gentle suggestion, listening to her exhale shuddering softly as she released the air, turning her head away for a desperate gasp as he feathered the tips of his fingers over her most intimate of places. With her lovely lips having escaped him, Goku turned his attentions to the graceful curve of her neck so generously exposed, touching kisses to the sensitive skin while beginning to stroke her gently, rewarded with quiet whimpers and a firmer clutch of her hand on his neck, feeling warm moisture transpire quickly through the thin material of her panties. Tracing a path of careful nips, licks and nibbles up to her ear, he placed a kiss just beneath it.

"I'm sorry," a whisper, his voice lowered and roughened up by long-missed intimacy, sending another shiver down Chichi's spine. "I ended up neglecting you so badly..."

She shook her head just barely, sliding her fingers into his spiky hair that never grew or changed shape but the black strands themselves were so incredibly soft to touch. She sifted through them in encouragement, a mute 'It's okay" to ease his kind heart. The fate of the world once again rested on his firm shoulders, but tonight he wasn't anybody's hero, savior, friend or helper. Tonight he was hers only and so long as he could show her that she was still his, Chichi was happy. Tonight nothing mattered but the two of them and no matter what anybody else might have thought or believed, she loved him with all her heart. And he loved her, and under the veil of night those feelings could be shared by physical means again. Her heart needed nothing more to _know_.

He stopped his delightful ministrations only for a moment in order to slip his hand into her undergarment, brushing over well-trimmed, short curls, teasing along the wet crevice just to draw out of her another honeyed gasp before his middle and index finger wiggled past dewed petals and sought out a warm, wet hole to prod against. Her body trembled with excitement and anticipation, aroused and moaning quietly as his digits pushed past the anxiously twitching ring of muscles and into her.

"Mhm...!" Gods, it felt so... "Ah..." It was like he had set her on fire and put it to a simmer, her body arching up slightly into his touch, feeling fingertips tap against her inner walls. Slow and gentle at first but then quicker and firmer, making her squirm atop the sheets, her breathing hastening and small sounds starting to mingle into the quickened flow of air heaving her fragile chest.

It felt so... maddeningly good, and Goku only added fuel to the fire when his mouth went on an adventure down her neck, over the excitedly throbbing vein there, passing thin collarbones and still wandering lower. In the comfort of their own home at night, Chichi did not have the habit of wearing a bra under her nightgown and that worked perfectly to her husband's advantage. He sought out one perky nipple, caringly biting on the hardened bud through the flimsy layer of fabric covering it. Chichi's spine curled upward in gentle grace, screwing her eyes shut and biting her lip, but unable to prevent the soft moan that resounded. One hand clutched at the black silk of his hair and the other at the bed sheets, mewling under her breath when a third finger was added into play, stretching her and giving her more bliss all the same.

From the eager tremble of her lithe little body beneath him, Goku knew she wouldn't last long and it was his treat, listening to her labored breathing and the soft sounds she produced, enjoying the way she clung to him more and more desperately.

"G-Goku...- ah!" Oh, Gods, don't let him stop now. The salacious sensations pin-balled through her body, burning so agonizingly sweetly and clouding her mind. A moment and one more and she could stand it no longer. It shot through her in a stark white flash, clutching at ebony spikes and her other hand shooting up to press its back against her mouth, further muffling the soft, heady moan of her bliss. Chichi's entire body froze with a breath held inside her chest as she rode out the orgasmic shocks, all muscles taut with tension until they slackened abruptly and let her sink back into the covers, panting and quivering delicately in the wake of the delightful aftershocks.

Her parted lips were tenderly claimed by her husband's pliant pair, minutes passing by with them sharing a slow, sensual kiss that sent her head and heart spinning beautifully once again. Her hands began to wander then, touching along his stately body - the sculpted plain of his chest, the chiseled artwork of his arms and the staunchness of his back, caressing his tanned, tough skin and thrilled by the flex of firm muscles hiding beneath it. She loved his strength as much as she loved his gentle nature, the magnificent physical wraps of his power were brilliant. To know that he could crush his fist halfway through the Earth without breaking a sweat and yet those hands were harmless when they held her fragile frame; it was magnificent. Chichi's fingers tapped along his deftly defined abs, slipping past the waistband of his boxers and finding hot, hard flesh to curl a delicate grip around. The impressive size of him in the palm of her curious hand excited her, much like the stutter of his breath as she stroked him fondly.

"Chi..."

She loved his voice like this, too, husky and raspier in the lowered tone of its melody, causing a warm shiver to trickle down her spine.

"I want you, Goku... So much..." A breathy confession, in par with her thumb gliding over the head of his erection with fair pressure, enticed a smoky groan out of him. In a blink of an eye his underwear was gone along with the nightgown that had still clad her slinky figure, her slender legs spreading invitingly to welcome him amidst them.

She weaved her arms around him and clung to him with all her strength, semi-successful in keeping down her ecstatic moans as he began pushing into her slowly and steadily. She felt herself expanding and the hot, hard length rubbing along her inner walls, the friction increased all the more by the eager embrace of her muscles tightening around him as he continued sliding inside carefully. She gasped for dear air by the time he stopped and held still for a moment, both of them enjoying the feeling of corporeal connection.

The awareness of the danger lurking outside these walls, outside these strong arms that held her, the perpetual fear of knowing that there was another battle coming from which he may not return... it caused her to clutch at him all the firmer, feeling the strain in her sinews and tendons as she embraced him fiercely with all the power her frail human body could muster. He rocked them atop their marriage bed as he began to move, shattering her world of trepidation with the sensation of nigh unearthly pleasure. Everything fell forgotten for the beatific while where it was only him, her and the union of their bodies. She felt the heat rising, dewing their skin with a fine sheen of perspiration, and she tried keeping her eyes open the smallest crack, watching that handsome face above her, unwilling to break her adoring gaze away from the onyx mystery of its counterpart. His eyes were beautiful. And so was he.

"I love you..." Between sweet moans and heavy breathing she whispered to him, causing Goku's warrior heart to let go of the ambitious thirst for challenge and powerful opponents during these minutes in which his gorgeous wife was all that mattered.

"I love you, too..."

Because no matter what she said and did, even when she got mad and exasperated with him, she was still his Chichi and she was perfect just the way she was. A wonderful mother and a most amazing spouse holding strong where many more would have long given up. He was a lousy father and a terrible husband, and yet here she was gifting him happiness and preserving it for him throughout years and years. Giving him home, warmth, love... a family. Who would he be without her? She had presented him a heir to his power, raising Gohan a good kid while all he himself could do was raise the boy a good warrior. They both loved their son, but Chichi could raise him by herself if needed be, something Goku would never be able to do. He was being selfish again, blasting off to fight overpowering adversaries without regard for his life because he knew that even if he should die, Chichi would manage. He knew he could rely on her to live life and for that she could rely on him to make sure there would be a life for her to live. For her, for their son, for their friends, for the people of the earth and the universe. He would continue to preserve the future for everybody else, while she would continue to preserve one for him.

And Chichi knew all that, too. She had married a soldier and he would be off on another mission way too soon, while her duty as a wife and a mother would be to stay home and wait... Wait and hope... Hope and wait, and welcome them both back into the warmth and love of a safe haven once they returned. And return they would... both of them... That, she had to believe. That, she needed to believe.

So, she embraced him even more tightly, moaning hot and heady in his ear as he stroked the deepest parts of her, causing her mind to begin disintegrating into millions of blinding white particles. Listening to his deeper, smoky voice echo in soft groans and sharp gasps, lifting each other higher and higher until they were far, far above everything else, ready to take a dive into joyful abyss from the height of their personal heaven.

That fall came abruptly, and it was stunning. Chichi held her breath yet again, gulping down a pocketful of air and enclosing it in her small chest, toes curling up and fingers digging into Goku's tough skin as her entire body tautened akin to an elegant bow string, feeling the wave of sheer ecstasy roll in and over her, swallowing her whole. She cried out, the sound gently silenced by his mouth on hers when he kissed her deeply, swallowing up her sweet, desperate moans and whimpers of bliss while her filigree form trembled strongly beneath him, bending into him by the will of overwhelming sensations. He felt the spasms of her inner muscles, grunting passionately and not missing the opportunity to thrust into the hot, slick confines another few times, clenching his eyes shut to the perception of eager, moist flesh squeeze around his arousal. It took all of his willpower to stay himself enough to ensure he would not hurt her in this wild rush of pleasure, spilling the white thick of his seed within her with one last, driven push and a dark, throaty groan muffled by the avid lock of their lips.

They parted and heavy breathing filled the air for the next rows of hastened heartbeats, Goku's stout arms holding his powerful body elevated an inch above Chichi's heated form, rivulets of brilliant sweat trickling down his neck and the bulk of muscles defining his biceps. His raven-black locks were damp by the roots as she sifted her delicate fingers through it, feeling him roll off to the side, pulling her along so that they could somewhat swap their positions and she came to lie halfway atop him instead.

She snuggled up to him, nestling close to his sturdy chest as he wrapped his protective arms around her and lighted his ki, gingerly coating her exhausted form with it; a warm, safe, comfy blanket of energy. He knew she loved that, the corner of his mouth twitching a loving smile upon hearing her all but purr up with contentment like a sated little kitten.

It wasn't long until she drifted off to sleep, but Goku lay awake for quite a while longer, just watching her. How her silky, dark hair flowed over the perfection of her pale skin, how the mellow light of the bedside lamp bounced off the smooth curvatures of her slinky body, how her ample bosom fell and rose calmly with soft, sound breaths. How the delicate pink hue continued to linger on her pretty face, how the tips of her jet-black lashes barely touched to the filigree elevation of her cheekbones. He sensed her ki, fragile and small in comparison to the fearsome auras of many others he had crossed on his path, felt its serene flow mixing in with his own as her little heart pitter-pattered in the breakable cage of her ribs. She was... peace. Tranquility. Respite. After all the battles, all the training, all the blood and broken bones, she was a taste of harmony. Serenity. Happiness; carefree and pure.

Easing his eyes shut with a deep breath eventually, the earth-raised Saiyan allowed his mind to drift from reality to dream, pressing his wife just that little bit closer to him before giving himself over to sleep. In two days, the fighting would begin. But let tomorrow be tomorrow, tonight it was only the two of them.

Or so it was until the morrow where both of them woke up unaware of the tiny little life whose conception had occurred throughout the night. However it would be seven long years before Son Goku would even get to lay eyes on his second boy - yet another heir to his power and legacy.


	2. Threat

And on we go! This is where the actual story and the alternative timeline start, so I hope it will be an enjoyable read. Have fun!

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**Threat**

He woke up in the middle of the night, in cold sweat. His body jerking upright in bed the blanket crumpled up in little folds inside his lap, his breathing hastened and a small salty rivulet trickling down his temple, the side of his face, along his neck, until his hand wiped across his nape to swipe at the thin sheen of perspiration. Again, that dream.

The man swung his legs off the mattress, glancing back over his shoulder at the lithe form resting on the other side of the bed. Reaching up he gently pulled the covers over her bare back, tucking the material in around her. Then he got up and exited the bedroom, leaving the door ajar. His steps were soundless upon the carpeted hallway, stopping in front of yet another bedroom door which he carefully pushed open, lingering in the door frame and peering into the moonlight-graced darkness. He listened to the soft, steady breathing of the boy curled up under the blanket. Just stood and listened, something he could have done for hours. A few years back, he had.

Slender arms going around his waist weren't a surprise, he had felt her ki shifting after about fifteen minutes had passed since his awakening. Pressing up to his durable back, she leaned her cheek against the well-rounded edge of his staunch shoulder.

"Come back to bed, Vegeta." Her voice was hushed and tender, caring. His brow twitched in half-a-frown, habitually more so than consciously.

"In a moment."

Seven years had passed, but he still dreamt about it sometimes. Cell and the harshly yellow beam of light from the bastard's finger, barreling through the chest of his son's future self, spilling blood and extinguishing a life the losing of which it had taken for him to understand that it was precious. He had returned to Capsule Corporation to train, or so he'd said to others and himself. In truth, Vegeta just wanted to keep an eye on his family. Because it was _his family_. Saiyans had never cared much for their families, his own father had sold him out to Freeza and look where that detachment had gotten their entire race. If you didn't protect your own, it would lead to your destruction; a lesson he wished his people had learnt before it was too late. Maybe if they had stood together, fought for each other, planet Vegeta could have been saved. Maybe somebody amidst them would have turned Super Saiyan like Kakarot had done - out of the pure wish to shield and preserve, not out of wrathful impulses or the drive for demolition.

Trunks was his flesh and blood and if there was something else besides his pride that Vegeta wanted to protect, the boy and his mother were it. He had never told this to anyone, but he suspected that Bulma knew. Somehow she had always been able to know things about him without him ever saying a word. It was one of the many things that had drawn him to the earthling woman, her looks and her sharp wits aside. Bulma had an amazing intuition when it came to her grouchy Saiyan prince, and more so she had guts. Sometimes her courage bordered on insanity and recklessness, but wasn't he the same? Wasn't he spitting into the face of danger to mock and provoke it even when he knew that it might fatally backfire?

Other than that, you could have said whatever you wanted about Bulma but she was a great mother. Trunks was turning out a lively boy, smart, considerate and loud-mouthed. He had the temper of his father and the brains of his mother, not that Bulma wasn't quite hot-blooded herself and not that Vegeta was particularly dim-witted either. Their genes had blended together well, furthermore Trunks was stronger than Vegeta ever remembered himself to be at that age. He was already able to turn Super, which only confirmed him that somehow his exceptionally powerful and bloodthirsty race mixing with the considerably weaker, mellower human species was somehow yielding incredibly strong offspring. He need only look at Gohan, supposedly the strongest man in the universe, even though in Vegeta's opinion the boy had inherited too much kindness and too little fighting spirit from his boisterous dad.

Nevertheless, Gohan's power was tremendous. So was Trunks' and that other brat of Kakarott's, Goten. The kid was born barely a year after Goku's death and he and Trunks were inseparable. Vegeta didn't mind, even though he never missed the chance to keep the competition between the boys going. After all Trunks was royalty as well, and it would do no good if he, too, got surpassed by the brat of a low class warrior. Sometimes he was hard on the boy, he knew, but it didn't change the fact that Trunks seemed to adore him. He viewed his father like some sort of a hero and even though he would never admit it out loud, the fact warmed Vegeta's well-guarded heart. He also knew he had Bulma to thank for it, the blue-haired genius wouldn't stand for anybody badmouthing Vegeta in front of Trunks and she herself always spoke of him in a way that would put him in the best possible light. So what if he'd tried to destroy the earth and killed a lot of innocents in many spots of the universe? For that he'd helped save the Earth and the universe with its many more innocents just as many times, she'd say. Just like Piccolo, he had changed for the better. Or rather... had been changed, through the influence and kindness of some low level-

A kiss to his cheek brought him out of his idle musings. "You only scowl like that when you think of Son-kun. How about we slip back under the covers instead? I'm getting chilly, and you can still see Trunks in the morning before school."

He h'mmed softly in agreement, she was right. A couple hours more sleep wouldn't hurt, tomorrow was another day full of hard, diligent training. He felt her disentangle herself from him, turning to start walking down the hall to their bedroom again. That was the moment he veered around as well, catching her by the wrist and pulling her back to him in a motion both careful and yet abrupt and unexpected enough that it got Bulma to gasp in surprise. She collided gently into his solid chest, his arms securing her against it as he angled his head to claim her lips in a kiss that was very Vegeta - strong, straightforward and fondly aggressive. She had to gather all of her willpower to keep a heady moan enclosed in her chest, grasping for his broad shoulders to use him as a pillar and stay on her quickly weakening legs. His tongue was swift in sampling a taste of her, leaning back to leave her panting softly, her reddish lips pulling an enchanted smile.

"You're a tease." She whispered at his lips, drawing in another sharp inhale as he scooped her up onto his arms as though she weighted nothing at all. She continued smiling and weaved her arms around his fair neck, carried away like a feather in the wind. She loved this side of her taciturn prince the most; the one that nobody else got to see.

Morning came in placid strides, the skies brightening up with the rise of the sun and one of the best places to watch the phenomenon was Kami's lookout. Piccolo had seen the picture very many times throughout the past seven years but the image still never failed to be breathtaking. Today as well, standing on the edge of the circle-shaped space marking God's ground, he was looking ahead at the red fireball in its slow ascend, feeling... peaceful. It was about the only time he did.

The Namekian wasn't a sociable person by nature, he grew tired of people and crowds rather quickly. Nevertheless, seclusion had its price, too. The only persons he saw regularly were Dende and Mr. Popo, and though he liked both the Earth's current Guardian and his ebony servant, from time to time he missed some company. The gang did get together a few times a year, mostly for New Year's and for Bulma's birthday since nobody else threw a party for theirs very often. The first few years after Cell's defeat Piccolo saw Gohan quite a lot, but even since the boy entered high school their meet-ups had become rather sparse.

Not that the Namekian blamed the boy, he was a teenager now and had many things on his mind that weren't fighting and training; from what he'd gathered there was also a girl involved and thus the lack of time for much else was even more understandable. Gohan had always been a soft-tempered kid and Piccolo could tell that he loved the peace. He loved going to school, studying, hanging out with classmates and taking care of his brother. Albeit the latest development sort of did worry the green warrior - that whole Saiyaman thing seemed like some sort of complex finally backfiring, but he hadn't had the chance to talk to the young demi-Saiyan in the past few months.

Sighing, Piccolo let his gaze sway over seemingly endless blue of the skies. Dende had gotten very good at keeping eye on the realm in his care, he probably didn't even need his fellow Namekian here for guidance anymore. But if he were no longer needed at the Lookout, were should he go? Where would he be needed then? He had no home to call his own, no family... He had taken care of Gohan, but the boy was growing his own wings now. He had taken care of Dende but he, too, was standing more and more firmly on his own two feet. He would have taken Son's second offspring under his care but Vegeta was filling the part surprisingly well.

Might have been because Goten and Trunks not seldom seemed joined at the hip anyway, but Piccolo had the feeling that Son Goku's second child very much wanted and needed the only other full blooded Saiyan's guidance. Gohan and Chichi tried their best, but Goten lacked a father figure - he appeared to have found a satisfying surrogate in Vegeta and strangely enough Vegeta himself didn't seem to mind. Perhaps living with his family, living with Bulma, was taking effect in softening the hard edges of the prince's personality and Piccolo often found himself wondering if that was what relationships, home, family did to you in general. Giving you a place of respite and recreation, calming your head and heart. Sometimes he wondered if that was the thing that he needed to fill the void he sometimes felt inside. All the more acutely lately, with people around him entwining their lives more and more firmly with somebody else's.

From time to time he even pondered blasting off to Namek to live with his own race, but growing trees? Not really his thing. He wouldn't know what to do, and also he was a little too anxious about not being able to connect to his brethren. He suspected that the part of him that wanted to return to Namek was more Nail than himself anyway. Over the years the other warrior's presence had faded into his subconscious far enough to become a part of it, now it was more of a second voice or intuition than an actual, separate entity he could converse with. The same thing was happening with Kami, by now it was so natural to have them as part of himself that he no longer remembered how it had felt like to have been without. He was one new whole now, only with memories and knowledge and experience he had acquired through the merging rather than on his own.

One way or another at the end of the day he was Namekian only in appearance, at his heart he was much more of an Earthling. His roots were here. His life was here, too.

"Piccolo-san."

He turned to see Dende walking up to him, a frown settling on his mature features upon seeing the agitated expression on the younger Namekian's face.

"What's wrong?" He asked straight out and felt a small jab of excitement, of all things. If it was something serious, matters might just liven up again.

"I just spoke with Moori. Our home... planet Namek is under attack. He begs for help."

Piccolo's eyes widened. "What?!" He knew Dende and the Guardian's brother - Namek's new Guru - could communicate and from time to time Piccolo exchanged a word or two with the eldest Namekian as well. He knew Moori wouldn't ask for support if the situation wasn't absolutely dire.

"A powerful being has landed there two days ago, and it has been rampaging there ever since. It claims that the Namekians are sheltering some fugitive and he will decimate the planet if the runaway isn't handed over. Even though Moori implored that nobody else had landed on Namek, the aggressor wouldn't believe him. He seems incapable of sensing ki so they were able to go into hiding, but if he progresses with the destruction of the planet, they won't be safe for long."

Such was the story Piccolo relayed little later at Capsule Corp. where most of Earth's warriors had gathered. "I plan to use Shenron and have him teleport me to Namek." Flying via spaceship would take way too long and he wouldn't stand for seeing his home planet destroyed yet another time. "Dende will use the second wish to bring me back to Earth if necessary. However, I have no idea how strong this opponent is." He made a deliberate pause just then, looking around the room.

"You mean to say that you need backup, Namekian?"

He had expected Vegeta to speak up first. Worked all the better in his favor. "That depends. Moori had his people take the Dragonballs with them as they fled; they have all but one of them. I will borrow the Dragon Radar and try to find the last one if that mystery destructor appears too much for me too handle."

The prince's eyes narrowed into a displeased grimace. "Let me guess, you then intend to wish Kakarot back to life so that he might once again do the dirty work for you."

Piccolo made a small, matter-of-factly sound. "That's what Son would want. You know how he loves both saving planets and a challenge; this way he can get both."

"Hah." Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Vegeta flexed his neck. "Not if I get to do it first. Count me in on your little adventure." He turned to the boy beside him. "Trunks, you're coming, too. This should be some good training for you."

While the boy leapt up into the air with a loud "Yay!" Bulma stemmed her hands into her hips, sounding annoyed but it was more of a show than she would let anybody else know. "I'm warning you, mister. If anything happens to him, I'll have your head, you got that?!"

She knew that fighting and training was the best way Vegeta knew to bond with his son and she knew that despite his distant attitude, he loved the boy. So going into a hissy fit over this was more of a pretence than an actual protest, simply because it was expected of a mother and because Trunks needed to see that both his parents had an equal say in any decision concerning him. She had also to give Vegeta credit for the fact that he never tried to undermine her authority in front of the boy, making sure that Trunks listened to his mother as much as he did to Vegeta. The Saiyan prince was a good father at core, even though she knew he didn't really believe so himself.

"Hey, if Trunks is going, I want to go, too! Please, please, Mom, can I?!" Jumping up and down in front of his parent, Goten was tugging on Chichi's skirt. From the expression settling on her face she was about to go into a storm of rebuttal and refusal, so Gohan hurried to aid his sibling.

"I'll tag along, too. I promise I'll keep a close eye on him, Kaa-san."

Chichi clapped her mouth shut again and sighed gravely, shaking her head and eventually giving her blessing. She had mellowed out quite a bit the past few years, Gohan noted, giving up the fight so easily. Perhaps she had spent all her obsession on him, Goten was generally treated much more loosely when it came to school and normality. Or maybe it was the fact that he looked so much like their father that caused their mother to be much more lenient with him and let him get away with many a thing Gohan never would have at Goten's age.

Which was certainly true and Chichi knew it, too. But every time she would look at her second born, her heart would clench with a sting of melancholy and longing. She missed her husband terribly, and Goten was a living reminder of that lack every single day. He was like a mini-me of Goku and whenever he laughed, smiled and was happy, her heart sang with joy as well. She didn't have it in her to upset him, or deny him much at all. This time as well.

Picking him up into her arms, she hugged him tightly and nuzzled his cheek. "Promise me to be careful and listen to your brother." He beamed up at her, vigorously nodding his head with an enthusiastically shouted "Promise! Thank you, mom!" Gods, even his energy and carefree verve was so much Goku. How she missed her man, if only someone knew.

Next to them, Krillin gave off a laugh. "Well, as much as I would want to join, I think Team Saiyan under Captain Piccolo should be more than enough to handle this. I'll probably only be in the way now, anyhow." Furthermore he had a family of his own to take care of now. Marron and Eighteen had long ago become much more important than training and fighting could ever be, never mind how very outclassed a fighter he'd become with Generation Saiyan on the go.

Piccolo grunted and Vegeta scowled again, he understood a joke when he heard one of course, but the idea of being under anyone's command wasn't funny to him no matter the context. Bulma placed a gentle hand on his forearm and giggled softly, causing him to turn away from all of them with a depreciative "Hmpf."

"Well, if that's settled, we have no time to waste. Let's meet at Kami's lookout in an hour and be on our way." Nobody had objections to that and thus, about sixty minutes later, their group of six was gathered up in front of Dende's palace, the seven Dragonballs in front of them. The wishing was done quickly, the world passing them in a flash before the scenery radically changed. Blue skies were replaced by soft green above their heads, the ground beneath them a wide mountain plateau with a small cave entrance. Switching on the Dragon Radar, Piccolo watched six bright yellow circles blink at him, indicating that they were all inside same cave while the seventh Dragonball was nowhere to be seen.

"Can you feel that?" Piccolo spoke up quietly to Gohan and Vegeta both of who looked concentrated - probably on the very same thing he was. The ki he felt was enormous and... sinister. It was almost as though he could feel the malevolence in it pulsating like black veins in a body.

"The bastard's strong, but his power level is not all too impressive." The only full blooded Saiyan amid them spoke out, watching Trunks and Goten gaze around wide-eyed. The boys were visibly impressed by the alien planet so different in color distribution and shape of landscape. He noted to himself that it was a good idea to take his son along on this trip, it was about time the boy discovered that there was much more to the universe than Earth.

"We'll know when we meet him." With that Piccolo proceeded into the cave, followed by the rest. Inside they met Moori and a large group of Namekians; there was an underground river flowing through the grotto and the Namekians had made camp along it.

They were greeted warmly by the folk, brought up to date quickly; there wasn't much to add to that which Dende had already relayed to them anyway. The stranger had apparently arrived by what had looked like a rhombus-shaped spaceship and had asked to speak with the ruler of the planet. The village he had landed nearby had directed him to the Elder of whom the stranger had then demanded the return of some refugee who had apparently taken shelter on Namek. Moori had tried to explain that neither he nor his brethren had seen anyone landing on the planet prior to the stranger's arrival but that had only gotten the man to snap and unleash his temper on the villagers. The warrior race, exterminated by Freeza, had barely recovered in numbers and what few of them had been there had almost all fallen trying to protect the others.

Moori and a handful of retainers had fled, soon sending a warning to everybody else on the planet, telling them to abandon their homes and come to the Shelter - a magically protected grotto on the edge of the planet. The Elder didn't know if the magical barrier would actually manage to stop the intruder should he find them and with only a couple of warrior Namekians remaining they had no hope of repelling the threat on their own. That was when Moori had contacted Dende with the SOS, he and his people now incredibly relieved to see the reinforcements especially with one of their own kind amidst them.

Many of them remembered Vegeta and eyed him with distinct antipathy, simultaneously joyful and surprised to see Gohan whom they only remembered as a little child. They showed respect and reverence towards Piccolo, doubtlessly sensing both Nail and the son of Katas being a part of him and they were quite curious about Trunks and Goten which the boys were quite delighted about, suddenly the center of interest among their hosts.

"So what's our plan?" Gohan posed a question, the three of them standing a bit aside the circle around Trunks and Goten who were all too happy to tell stories of how things were on Earth, how their families were doing, where Goku was and why, how good Dende had gotten at his new job and so on and so forth.

"I say we go out, find the bastard, kick his ass and be home before the day's done." Vegeta, geared up in his favorite Saiyan armor, shrugged his shoulders lightly. "He doesn't seem too big of a threat."

Piccolo made a pensive sound. "We can't be sure of that. We don't know what his powers are, who he is, if he can expect backup. We have to be careful."

The prince furrowed his brows, turning towards the exit of the cave. "Well, that's all intel we won't be able to gather by sitting on our asses all day. We meet him in battle and see what he's really worth." He didn't think there was much use in talk. If you wanted to access your enemy, you had to engage them sooner or later, one way or another.

"I know that. But I'd rather not storm at him recklessly. He can't sense ki auras, so we have an advantage."

Vegeta snorted softly. "You want a vanguard? I'll gladly volunteer." It was one of the rare times he actually saw the Namekian grin and it almost made the Saiyan elite himself smirk, too. Sly bastard had known he'd propose that. Just like he'd likely dropped the line about reviving Kakarot should the threat be too much to handle on purpose to get the prince to accompany.

"I guessed you would." Piccolo more or less confirmed the assumption. "Let's go then."

In another ten minutes they had left the cave on their way towards the source of the strong ki. Piccolo and the three demis stayed back then, lowering their power just in case and following Vegeta like four swift shadows in a trek over the ground while the prince flew overhead, confident and eager for encounter as he ever was. Behind one of the many huge mountains was where Piccolo and the Saiyan boys took cover while the elite approached a figure hovering in the air. The man was mustering up energy in his palm, looking ready to throw it off into the distance where smoke and dust were already rising in distorted columns.

"So which gave you the bigger challenge, the mountains or the greenery?"

To Vegeta's mocking voice, the stranger veered around, looking at the prince through eyes of pale-blue, icy color. He was good two heads taller than the Saiyan and had burning red hair flowing down his back, sides and chest almost all the way to his ankles. It was a bit bizarre how it surrounded him almost like a mane, contrasting in color not only to his eyes but also to his skin that was a strange, cerulean hue.

"And who are you?" His voice was a deep, guttural baritone, rumbling through his body like a pulled bass string.

"Name's Vegeta. Don't worry I'll make sure that you'll remember it well, especially if you continue this pointless destruction." Not that Vegeta had much against pointless destruction, but he was more or less one of the good guys now.

"I told the Namekians that I will eradicate their planet bit by bit if they don't give over the fugitive. The girl is ours and we want her back."

The prince snorted. "All this drama because of some woman? Let me guess, her name is Rapunzel and you want to eliminate the competition before the next beauty pageant?"

Next to Piccolo, Trunks and Goten pressed their hands to their mouths trying to stifle their gurgling laughter. Well, one had to give Vegeta that, quips had always been his forte even though the Namekian found himself surprised that the man even knew who Rapunzel was - something that couldn't be said for his opposite since the ginger only frowned deeply in confusion.

"No. The girl is property of Lord Jion and I intend to return it to him."

Mentally Vegeta racked through the long list of the more prominent names he'd heard during his travels through galaxies while serving under Freeza. Jion didn't ring any bells, so he counted that as a good sign. If the name wasn't as important as to be wide-spread enough, the challenge of erasing it from the face of the universe entirely shouldn't be an all too big one.

"If the green folk says she's not here, then she's not here. Now get lost before I take it upon myself to convey you the message loud and clear."

The stranger narrowed his eyes, and quite suddenly Piccolo noticed that despite the presence of a light breeze that vermillion hair of his wasn't moving at all. It took him but a second to realize and he blasted off from the spot, leaving three stunned demi-Saiyans behind.

"Vegeta, watch out!" He reached the prince in time - barely.

The strong tackle from his side got the elite flying a fair few meters, echoing a dull pain where Piccolo's shoulder had impacted on his. He wanted to snap at the Namekian but a glance to the spot where he himself had hovered in the air barely a moment ago silenced him as he caught spikes of red hair retracting. It would have pierced right through his chest if Piccolo hadn't shoved him aside.

"It's a weapon." The green warrior hissed, baring his pearly canines. "His entire body is covered in one giant death trap."

Only now did Vegeta notice that the entire left side of the Namekian's white cape was ragged as though it had been ripped by a thousand tiny knifes. Every single red strand was a sharp spike that would have made a colander out of his ribcage and the full blooded Saiyan didn't know what annoyed him more: the fact that he hadn't figured it out sooner by himself or the fact that Piccolo had saved his ass from becoming a sieve.

"Let's give him a new hairdo, then." Drawing on his ki Vegeta's black strands flickered up a deep yellow, the coal of his eyes flipped to a dark teal. "How about bald?!" With that he launched himself forward, raining a series of brutal kicks and punches down on his opponent. The ginger wasn't half that bad, evading most of them and blocking the rest; upon contact with that weird cerulean skin Vegeta noted that it was the hardest surface he had yet had the displeasure to hammer at in his entire life. What the actual hell...? Even when his hits connected, he seemed to hurt himself more than he was hurting his adversary and that was pissing him off even more.

"Dad!"

He flickered out of the way as Trunks sent a row of ki blasts flying, accompanied by Goten's. They all hit their target, hiding it in a cloud of smoke. "Did we get him?!"

He didn't have to answer his son's question, partly because he could sense the stranger's ki and partly because he knew that solid skin must have absorbed most of the damage. This was turning out to be more of a pain in the neck than he'd initially thought.

The battle turned out long and arduous, with all five of them having to pitch in. The bastard was slow but seemed near unbreakable, their combined attacks ricocheted off him like bullets off sleek metal. Even their signature trump moves barely scratched him, be it the Garlick Gun, Kamehameha or Makkankosanpo. Gohan and Vegeta were both coated in a brilliant golden aura by now, Trunks and Goten flamed a bright yellow as well, and Piccolo's ki was flaring fiercely as well, doing his best to find the most tactical approach to the situation but even with five against one the ginger stood his ground more than well. His annoying fuchsia mane was one giant bother, able to strike in a hundred different directions with single bundles of red strands and by now all five earth-bound warriors bore smaller and deeper cuts alike all over their bodies.

Trunks and Goten hit their limits first, followed by Piccolo and Vegeta and lastly Gohan began running low on spirit and energy as well. They were making more and more mistakes in defense and offence both, resulting in them receiving even more hits and damage. Next to being nigh indestructible, their opponent seemed to have almost inexhaustible ki reserves - or so they'd thought until he suddenly turned and blasted off and away. Vegeta aimed to fly off after him, stopped at the last second by Piccolo's insistent voice.

"You shouldn't pursue him on your own in your condition." The prince's clothing were tattered and his body covered in blood, although the same could be said for any of them. "Neither of us has enough power left and if we lose the advantage of numbers, he won't have much trouble to pick us off one by one." Of that, he had no doubt. The bastard was strong and his retreat was likely only temporary. Now he seriously considered drawing the option he'd announced back on earth already.

"It might be best to bring Goku back."

Vegeta snorted and spat a mouthful of blood out to the side. "Hah. What makes you think Kakarot will be able to beat somebody whom five of us could barely hold at bay?"

A good point no doubt, but there was one which was even better. "Maybe six will be enough where five weren't. Also, if that red-haired freak of nature returns - and I'm most positive that he will - we will need Goku's Instant Transmission technique." It would be a grievous waste of wishes to be teleporting themselves back and forth between Namek and Earth. As disparaging as it may have sounded, Goku was a wonderful transportation device in a pinch.

"Atop of that the guy was all but a subordinate, and I don't want to know how strong Jion himself might be." So there was that, too. And Goku was simply, well... Goku. He had the ability of making the impossible possible and they might need a miracle if Jion and his posse did decide to pay Namek a visit in search for that girl who they seemed to be convinced was here.

"Hmpf." That was all of a comment Vegeta had to spare to that. He knew the Namekian was right but it didn't mean the prince was alright with it. Not that he minded his rival being brought back to life, he just minded the fact that everybody was staking hope in the cheerful fool again. He was the best fighter Vegeta had ever seen or battled against, and that bothered the older Saiyan - always had, always would. Nevertheless he could admit that getting Kakarot's assistance on this was most likely the smartest move to make. The low class did have the incredible ability of turning the tides around no matter how badly the odds might be.

Gohan and Goten were utterly delighted by the idea, overly excited during their flight back to the cave where Moori and his people hid. In view of this newly arisen threat, it was time to wish Earth's greatest fighter back to life.


	3. Home Coming

Still in the thick of setting up the plot, but I think things are moving along quite well so far. Also, you can expect to finally see a lot more of Bulma and Vegeta in the next chapter =) They are the second main pair and will be getting an equal amount of attention once the stage is set, I promise XD

And now, please enjoy the read 3!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

**Home coming**

Albeit having seen it a couple of times already, Piccolo was still amazed anew at how different Porunga was from Shenron. The dragon's huge, burly form towered above them like a monument of magical power, his red eyes devoid of irises and still their crimson gaze appeared to be piercing one's very soul. Goten and Trunks were staring at the apparition with their mouths and eyes wide open while Moori spoke their wishes.

The first one asked of Porunga to restore the halfway destroyed Namekian planet back to its original form while back home on Earth Dende was using the second wish of Shenron to resurrect all the poor souls who had fallen victim to the aggressive stranger. Porunga's second task was easy enough and this time the one called Goku didn't refuse to be brought back from Otherworld. The third wish was put aside, who knew what might happen and whether or not they might need more mystical assistance in the course of this freshly encountered issue.

Son Goku's familiar silhouette appeared in time with the skies clearing up of the nightly darkness that was so uncommon on this planet with three suns, Porunga's bulky form flickering and vanishing into naught. Trunks was sticking close to his father, keeping a small distance but it was obvious he was subliminally searching for security so reaching down a bloodied hand, Vegeta placed it on his son's shoulder with a rough sort of kindness that still calmed the boy down visibly. Goten was hiding behind his brother's leg altogether, peeking in evident stun from behind it at the taller, older version of himself.

"Hey guys!" The repeated savior of Earth and Universe lifted a hand in cheerful greeting, his deeply brown eyes sparkling up in surprise. "You look quite roughened up. What happened?" He'd spent the last seven years training and honing his skills non-stop, guilty of not having had checked on things in the living world for quite a while. The feeling of time was different in the Otherworld, it had the tendency to go by so much faster because it just seemed like one long, ongoing day without an end. "And why am I on Namek?"

King Kai had told him to go when the Dragon had asked for Goku's permission to revive him, saying his friends needed him and it was time to return but he'd been so worried and in a hurry to comply, he completely forgot to let the deity fill him in.

Piccolo's mouth twitched a small grin. "I'll explain later, Son. I think there are a couple more important things right at this moment." With that, he nodded towards the pair of black-haired demis standing not far off. Gohan's gaze was filled with joyful anticipation while Goten seemed rather intimidated.

"Dad! It's so good to have you back!" Goku's oldest exclaimed, resisting the urge to rush up to his father and hug him. Instead he reached behind himself and grasped for his sibling's arm, gently tugging him forward. "Come on, Goten. Say hi to dad."

Only now did Goku's attention snap to the mini version of himself now in full view, his eyes widening in clear surprise. Was that his... "Goten...?" Oh god, how had he missed _this_? He glanced at his firstborn who only merrily beamed up at him; Gohan, too, had matured so much since the last time he'd seen the boy. He was almost a grown young man now and quite abruptly, Goku felt the sting of guilt and regret. He'd gotten so caught up in his passion for fighting and his quest of perpetually becoming stronger so that he might serve a stalwart shield to Earth and Universe if necessary, he once again ended up neglecting everything else. He had missed out on so much...

Son Goten made a tiny, uncertain step towards his father and managed a hushed, timid "Hi dad...", quickly pinning his gaze to the ground and bringing up a hand to bite down on the tip of his thumb. This was... This was his dad. He'd heard so much about him from both his mother and his brother, but now that the man stood in front of him he was... completely overwhelmed.

Easing a warm smile onto his stately features, Goku went into a crouch in front of his second boy. "Hi Goten," he spoke softly, doing nothing except of keeping up that smile for the few moments the young one needed to muster up the courage and lift his gaze again. Their eyes met and in that very instant Son Goku knew this was his son, enclosing that tiny, special existence readily into his heart.

It seemed as though Goten had felt much the same sensation, suddenly launching forward and right into his father's arms. Laughing out the earth-raised Saiyan hugged his little boy with gentle strength, standing up and holding that tiny, precious life close. With arms locked tight around his parent's neck Goten buried his face against the smooth curvature of it, inhaling the scent of nature - earth, forest, rivers, the freshness of life - and it had something so very personal and familiar to it that he found he'd missed it badly even though he hadn't even known it before this very moment. Something that had been lacking in his life for so long seemed to have finally returned home and the emotions swamped him, pearling out in silent, salty tears from his clenched shut eyes. He had his father back... and he didn't want to be without ever again.

Still smiling, Goku reached for his firstborn who stepped closer readily, feeling his dad's strong arm curl a grip around him and pull him into a firm embrace as well. On contrary to his younger brother Gohan managed to keep from crying - barely, having missed his father dearly in the past... gods. Seven years, has it been? It was a strange and warm feeling, to realize that his parent's presence suddenly made him feel safer than he had in all those months of undisturbed and lasting peace.

"Well, as heartwarming as this is, Kakarot, I'd like to go home now. You can continue your touching reunion there if you want to." Vegeta didn't know why exactly the scene was making him sort of uncomfortable. Maybe because he could see the shadows of longing and envy on his son's face, and maybe because he could feel those very same shadows creeping up into his heart as well.

He hadn't held Trunks even once since the boy was born, and watching Kakarot be so cordial with his brats was... somewhat hard. And if it was hard on him, how much harder did it have to be on his son? But he didn't know how to fix that. Or rather, he did but he hadn't been able to overcome that barrier within himself just yet. He was crude and abrasive; showing emotions, being sentimental or more even, affectionate... that was incredibly difficult for him. Bulma had managed to break through those walls years back but even with her he could only let go of that control and that habitual distance he kept from everybody else only when they were alone and in private.

Goku meanwhile gave off a genial laugh. "It's good to see you, too, Vegeta." And he meant it, too. Amidst all the opponents he had fought, Vegeta and Piccolo still stood out the most because of their very distinct, inimitable personalities. He was wholeheartedly happy to have both of them on the good guys' side now; disregarding the fact that either had once broken every bone in his body he considered them irreplaceable comrades.

Before they took off Namek via Goku-express however, the Namekians were more than happy to heal up the friends of the valiant hero who'd once saved their entire species from extinction. Piccolo rounded that up with a dosage of his own ability, recreating their outfits to replace the torn, bloodied rags left on their bodies after the arduous fight. And then it was time for Son Goku to focus his attention and search out a familiar ki throughout the universe, one that would lead them home like a beacon did a lost ship in the middle of a furious ocean.

For him that ki which he searched for had always been the very embodiment of _home_. That person comprised everything those four letters might ever mean to another, that person comprised everything that _home_ meant to him. Even though he continued to leave that home behind to face the challenges of intergalactic peace preservation, he still knew he could always return there. Always. And thus...

Chichi shrieked and stumbled a step back when a group of six suddenly appeared a few feet away from her in the large gardens of the Capsule Corp. where she, the Briefs and the rest of their friends have been bustling around in wait for Piccolo and Team Saiyan to return. She had tried not to get her hopes up, reasoning with herself that maybe those five would be more than enough to extinguish whatever alien threat had appeared in the universe yet again, that they might not need Goku or that he might not be ready to return from the Otherworld yet.

But now her eyes stared ahead and there he was, as strong and handsome and radiant as ever, smiling gently as he sat Goten down from the carriage of his arm and raised a hand at her in greeting. "Hey."

Bringing her hands up to clasp them tightly in front of her chest, Chichi felt the tension from her intertwined fingers squeezing hard at each other transfer to every muscle in her body, causing it to quiver ever so noticeably. Her voice came out soft and stifled, perceiving the familiar sting of tears in the corners of her eyes: "Hey..."

She could barely believe it... Seven years. Seven years, and here he was... She was at loss of what to do, overpowered by a heavy mix of emotions, wanting to rush up to him and embrace him with all her strength yet at the same time still so very afraid that this was just a dream. That he might disappear in another second as quickly as he had just appeared here right in front of her, that maybe he was only here to bring their boys home and would depart again in the next instant. Her heart was trembling harshly in her chest, spreading anxiety throughout her delicate frame until she could barely stand it.

"Mom, mom! Daddy's back home!" The beloved bundle of boisterous energy that jumped into her arms right then jerked her back into reality, pressing Goten to herself tightly and securely she exhaled a shaky breath through the fragile smile that settled on her lips.

"Yes, honey. Yes, he is..." Clutching her son to herself, she laughed out softly. "You must all be hungry. Come on in, I've been preparing a big dinner for you lot!" She had shooed all of Bulma's cooking robots out of the kitchen, spending hours on composing a huge buffet because she knew Saiyan appetites very well. She loved cooking and it had kept her occupied, too, not allowing her to think too much.

Her gaze crossed Goku's one more time, those obsidian eyes studying her carefully and she quickly turned around, setting Goten back to his feet and marching off towards the house while her husband got surrounded by his friends who were eager to welcome him home. Goten had swiftly found back to his father's side again, not yet ready or willing to stray too far away from it. Trunks, after having given his mother a big, warm hug skittered off to join his best friend, both of them starting to excitedly babble about their adventure on Namek and the strong enemy they'd faced.

Vegeta stood aside, watching the lively bustle around his arch-rival. The man was well-loved and you could see that everybody was genuinely elated to have him back. He had to admit that he, too, was somewhat excited but out of an entirely different reason - now that Kakarot was back, he felt the familiar competitive tingle begin to spread through his warrior soul. The younger full-blooded Saiyan was a living, breathing challenge; one that the prince had tackled quite a few times already and he still didn't seem able to match up to that ungodly power. Now, with a new threat on the horizon, he was given yet another chance to prove that royalty would not stand to be inferior to populace. Kakarot had always been able to give him a purpose in that regard, the one of striving to beat him.

"So this Jion fellow. Ever heard of him?"

He turned his head to the Namekian who had come to stand next to him while also observing the merry bunch in front of them with a calm, contemplative gaze. Goku was indeed quite a polarizing individual. Piccolo remembered the time where hatred and loathe had once burned where friendship and respect were nestled now. His biggest enemy had become his best friend and the man's son was the closest thing he had to family.

"Can't say that I have. Maybe King Cold or one of his brats had known him, but we can't very well ask them, can we."

Piccolo chuckled. "We could kill you and send you off to Hell to investigate."

To that, Vegeta snorted in amusement. "Only if you tag along, cucumber." Out of everybody else in Kakarot's posse, he could admit to liking Piccolo's company best. The Namekian and he; they shared certain similarities in their personalities and background stories, so it was easier to connect.

"No can do, your royal highness. I'm fused with a god, so it's a one-way ticket upstairs for me upon my demise."

Just then they heard a soft outcry somewhere above their heads, all attention snapping to one of the big trees in the courtyard to see a young girl atop one of the thick branches several feet above the ground. She was huddled up near the trunk, hugging it desperately as she gazed down fearfully while suffering waves of desperate trembles. She had been unconscious up until now and coming to, it was a terrifying experience to find herself high up in some tree and nearly plummeting down off it to what would have likely been her untimely death.

"What the...? Who's that?" Asking, Krillin was the first to approach the tree, followed by the rest of the gang.

"More importantly, how in the world did she end up in that tree?" Yamcha supplemented the articulation of overall perplexity while the girl focused her sight on them with a plea.

"Help me, please..."

Meanwhile, the three most experienced warriors amid them frowned in a various degree of the expression, noticing something rather weird, but neither of them said anything just yet. One of them was quick to replace the confusion with an affable smile, lifting off the ground to float up and towards her. Once he was near her, Goku remarked to himself that she didn't seem to be either stunned or taken aback by his ability to fly. She must have seen it somewhere before or was used to it altogether, but apparently she herself didn't possess such a skill. She looked at him both beseechingly and in trepidation, tensing up when he reached for her.

"Don't be scared. I won't hurt you, I promise."

She nodded small and detached one of her arms from its vice grip around the trunk, stretching it out for him. Goku's hands settled on her waist, feeling the quiver of her body as her own hands darted out to grasp at his shoulders, her delicate fingers abruptly clawing into the material of his gi and the tough skin beneath.

"It's okay. I won't let you fall, don't worry." He reassured her with another smile, gravitating back down to earth and carefully setting her onto her unstable little feet. He stepped back and out of her immediate personal space, which also allowed him and everybody else a better look at her.

She looked young, probably in her late teens or early twenties and quite pretty. Long chestnut strands framed her small face in a layered haircut, falling past her shoulders and flowing over her back and bosom to the level of her elbows. Finely charted features formed up a pretty countenance; full, rosy lips and a straight, petite nose, thin, elegantly swung brows above long, jet-black lashes beneath which hid eyes of an intricate amber color that appeared iridescent in the rays of late sunlight. She was approximately Chichi's height and of a lithe and slender physique, clad in a very simply cut, sleeveless, knee-long dress of a gentle, lavender color, a black leather belt wrapped around her thin waist.

Staring back at them apprehensively, she finally muttered a quiet "Thank you..." towards Goku in a light, silver voice.

"So it must have been you." The earth-raised Saiyan spoke, causing everybody to shift their focus to him momentarily. "I knew I had felt a small disturbance in my ki shift as I teleported off Namek. It must have been you latching on. How did you do that?" He cast a quick glance around, seeing signs on most of his friends' faces that told him they were sensing about her what he himself was: nothing at all. Which was more than peculiar.

"I... I don't know. I just did."

Narrowing his eyes, Piccolo raised his voice next. "You're her, aren't you? The girl he's been looking for?" She was dressed rather plainly - and barefooted, he suddenly realized. He couldn't see any immediate injuries, but she did look very fatigued. All of that added up to the conclusion that she might have been the runaway the ginger had been looking for.

Clasping her hands together the girl pressed them to her chest somewhat defensively. "Please... You fought him... I saw you fight him... Please don't give me back to him."

Naturally Goku was the first to respond to that, his easy-going smile a fair attempt to comfort her. "Don't worry. We-"

"Should think about." Vegeta's firm objection cut his fellow Saiyan off, the prince's stately features in an expression of stark wariness. "We don't know anything about that Jion guy, or you for that matter. Now Kakarot is an oaf with a big heart, but _I_ don't trust fugitives." She could be all and anything, from a dangerous psycho to an intergalactic criminal. If Freeza was any indication, looks could be very deceiving and Vegeta didn't buy the innocent escapee act - not quite yet.

She approached him with a few lightweight steps and he tensed up, muscles tautening in alertness. He felt for Trunks and Bulma's ki nearby, if any attack should be launched he would know which direction to go first. The girl stopped near him and he watched her hands shake a she reached up and brushed the thick, left strap of her dress off her shoulder, exposing the thinner strap holding her bra in place to keep covering a part of her now semi-bared chest. An angry red mark stood out against her pale skin just above the breast, shaped in a triangle inclosing some form of a horned head.

"This is..."

"The EST mark," Vegeta finished quietly, more to himself than anybody else. His heart stirred with certain, not too pleasant memories and the elite averted his head to stare off into the distance.

"EST?" Questioning softly, Bulma cast another glance at the girl's damaged skin. It was a burn mark; a brand. Just like...

"Exotic Slaves Trade. When a planet was purged on Freeza's orders, he would demand a couple of the residents to be left alive and kept prisoner. They would be traded around the universe as something exotic, like rare collector's items. Some paid fortunes for them, especially if the race had any sort of unique trait or ability to them." Explaining in a clear but lowered voice, Vegeta could feel the terror and consternation stirring in those around him without having to look at them, furthermore he could very well imagine what some of them must have been thinking.

Humans were no strangers to the idea of slave trade per se, much like they hunted and sold rare and endangered animals to those willing to pay. But he knew this was taking it to another level entirely, selling survivors of entire species exterminated either for fun or just to add another rarity to the set, entire races wiped from the face of the universe. Freeza had always excelled at taking cruelty to the next extreme. Vegeta wasn't proud of it; the fact that once upon a time he had participated - willingly and with a great amount of fun had. He had enjoyed it once... at least until Freeza destroyed his home planet and made him and the few survivors 'exotics' as well. Only that Freeza had known better than to brand and sell off the few last remaining Saiyans, the bastard had kept him, Nappa and Radditz to himself like some sort of priced possession. It still sickened him to the stomach.

"I was sold to Lord Jion when I was seven..." The girl spoke up softly again. "Ever since... I've lived every hour of every day of my life in fear and humiliation. Finally... a few weeks ago I-" The world was starting to haze up in front of her vision, her voice dying down to a weakened murmur. "I managed to-" It was so hard to keep on standing. Her energy, mental and physical, had been almost entirely drained away by the undergone trials. "-to escape... I've been on the run for weeks..." Her eyes slipped shut and her body slumped, teetering to the ground.

However the impact never happened, calloused hands catching her falling frame and easing it against a strong, tall form to the flutter of white fabric. She curled her fingers into dark-purple material cladding a firm, broad chest, whispering while her consciousness pended between delirium and reality. "Please... I don't want to run anymore... I don't want to be afraid anymore... I just-" For once in her life she wanted to feel... she wanted to be... "I want to be safe..."

Stepping closer Bulma threw an examining look at the petite brunette. "She's utterly exhausted, the poor thing. If you don't mind, could you bring her inside, Piccolo? She can stay here for now, I'll do a check up later and make sure she's comfortable."

Addressed man gave a short nod and hoisted the featherweight up onto his arms. It was the first time that he was handling something quite so... delicate, she seemed so light and fragile - the perception was unusual yet strangely... charming. Turning he started towards the Capsule Corp. building, making his way to the nearest guest room where he approached the bed and laid her lithe little figure down onto the downy mattress. He cast a long look at her vulnerable existence, finding himself actually rather curious about her. Her story, her origins, her character... She was quite an eye catcher, too. No, wait. Shaking his head, he felt irritated and confused both. This wasn't right. Namekians weren't interested in others like that. Couldn't be. It was impossible. Right?

Veering around with a swish of his heavy cape he didn't get to leave right away due to a dainty hand reaching out to take light hold of his wrist. It felt warm... her small palm against the toughness of his emerald-hued skin.

"Thank you..." She whispered softly and he glanced back over his staunch shoulder, staring at her for another moment before replying.

"Get some rest." The iridescent amber of her heavy-lidded eyes was dimmed by what he could only guess was the very thing she so wanted to get away from. Fear. He didn't know what exactly caused him to say what he said next, but maybe that was it. "You're safe here." And it was the oddest sensation, watching the relief settle on her fine features. She had taken comfort and solace in his words and it was... pleasant. He needed to get away from this girl, even though - or maybe exactly because - he found himself wanting to stay a little longer.

It was getting dark outside and when he came back out of the house everybody was getting ready to leave for their respective homes. There were still a lot of unanswered questions but it didn't look like there were more answers to be gotten today and likely, all of them needed some time to work through everything that had happened in just one single day. They'd gone to Namek, fought a very strong enemy whose superior promised to be even more powerful, Goku was back home, they picked up a very strange female fugitive and speaking of that...

Before taking off in the direction of the Lookout, Piccolo took earth's strongest warrior aside. "This girl. I'm sure you noticed it, too, didn't you, Son?"

He received a nod in reply, a shadow of pensiveness crossing Goku's handsome countenance. "Yes, I did. She has no ki signature whatsoever. I couldn't feel... anything." It was the strangest thing. Normally every single creature, even animals, had a level of energy you could measure. Without wanting to sound conceited Goku could say that he was one of the best at sensing and identifying ki, too, but this girl... She seemed to have none.

"How is that possible?"

The Saiyan shrugged lightly. "I have no idea. I'm sure Vegeta noticed it as well and I wanted to talk to him about it, but he disappeared rather quickly after you carried the girl off." Taking his outer space experience into account, the prince might have been able to give rhyme or reason to that odd phenomenon, but it appeared he wanted to be left alone for now. Sighing softly, Son Goku raked the fingers of his right hand through his ebony spikes. "I bet me returning irks him. And remembering Freeza and the past must have gotten to him, too. Still, I'm positive that we can count on his support in this."

Piccolo observed the other man with calm astuteness; his friend was really much more sensitive to the moods and general states of those around him than most gave him credit for. Sometimes he wondered if Goku put on the carefree spirit act and the cheerful, happy-go-lucky attitude deliberately, those who didn't know him well would easily say he wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer but Piccolo knew better. His former nemesis had very fine senses which he was obviously able to attune well to his surroundings and he was a god-given genius when it came to fighting. He just seemed to be more comfortable with not letting people on to that and Piccolo thought Goku and Vegeta were quite the bit alike in that one aspect. They were protecting their innermost emotions as though they thought it a weakness or feared somebody using it against them. Then again, was he himself not the same as well...?

"He'll be fine. Vegeta has a way of coming around - on his own terms and at his own pace." The older Saiyan had an individual way of dealing with things and usually appreciated it if you left him well enough alone while he was at it. But that aside... "What about you, though?"

Blinking in bemusement, Goku laughed out softly. "What about me?"

However thanks to Kami's intuition enhanced by decades of guarding the realm and its inhabitants, Piccolo wasn't as simply fooled by the other's lighthearted demeanor. "Can't be easy, returning home after seven years. Seeing how much Gohan has grown, discovering that you have another son. And Chichi seemed... distant." Judging by his opposite's reaction Goku had obviously caught onto that as well, his expression growing more solemn and serious.

"Yes, I noticed. She probably just needs a little time." He had to talk to her, soon. Even though he hardly knew where to even begin... He had not been fair to her. Or his kids, albeit that topic wasn't much easier to talk and think about, so he diverted the conversation elsewhere entirely. "She already headed off home with the boys, and I best get going, too. Say hi to Dende for me."

Piccolo just nodded, deciding not to press the matter any further. The man had enough to sort through on his first day back in the world of the living as was. They said their goodbyes and agreed to meet up again tomorrow, with the hopes that the girl would have recovered enough to tell them more about who Jion was, what he could want and how dangerous he might really be.

It was barely a couple of minutes later that Son Goku teleported himself into his house, lowering his fingers from his forehead. He had felt for his wife's energy once more, now standing in what used to be their guestroom and was now obviously Goten's room. Chichi was tucking their youngest in, though her efforts were nullified the moment the kid spotted his father appearing behind his mother who sat on the edge of the bed - he launched right out from underneath the blanket into Goku's arms.

"Dad!" Eyes dark as coal and sparkling like midnight stars gazed up at him full of joy and with abating anxiety, causing him to realize that his son must have been afraid of him not returning home. His heart clenched but he smiled it off, walking over to the piece of furniture the little one had just bolted out of. Chichi stood up off the edge of the bed as he neared it.

"Alright, I'll let your father tuck you in. Good night, Goten."

She received a merry "Night, mom!" back and exited the room, leaving Goku and his mini-me behind.

"Now under the covers you go, champ." It took all but a few seconds for Goten to settle under said covers, his freshly revived parent easing down onto the same spot his mother had just sat at. Taking the hem of the blanket, Goku pulled it up and over his son so that only the boy's head now peeked out from underneath it.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?" It was amazing how much Goten resembled him. He watched a shadow of agitation settle on those youthful features, that trusting child's voice all hushed as though the boy feared the very words he spoke.

"You're gonna stay now, won't you? You won't be leaving anymore?" And before Goku could at all reply, words suddenly started pouring out of the little demi-Saiyan, stuttering and stumbling over themselves from the rapid pace they were pronounced with. "I wanted to meet you so much, always-always! Mom had been telling me so much about you, and I missed you lots! I mean, I didn't even know you, just from pictures, but still! I wanted to see you so much that it would even start to hurt sometimes. And- and I was always jealous of Gohan, because he'd gotten to see you and train with you and he knew you and I didn't, only from what he and mom would tell me! And- and one time I went to Capsule Corporation to train with Trunks and I heard him talking with Bulma-san and he was telling her how great it was to train with his dad and I got so upset and left, and then I cried in my room because I felt so sad all of a sudden and-"

He fell silent abruptly, as abruptly as Goku had leaned in to press his lips to his son's smooth forehead. Goten now lay there still and hushed, his father's sorrowful expression hidden from him as the man held the fond contact there for a long moment in time. Reclining all but an inch then... "I'm so sorry, Goten. For leaving... for not being there. I promise you I won't be going anywhere, not if I can help it in any way. So don't be scared, or sad, anymore. Okay...?"

Clenching his eyes shut the boy nodded firmly, two crystal-clear, salty rivulets trickling from the corners of his eyes. Straightening out Goku willed his features to work up another smile, soft and comforting, gently wiping away the traces of brilliant moisture from those small cheeks. "Go to sleep now, little one. You and I, we can talk or train all you like tomorrow. Or go fishing, or globetrotting, or do whatever else you would want to do."

Goten's face lit up instantly at that, glowing again with that sweet, puerile elation. "Really?!"

"Really." Standing up, Goku took in the image of his second child, never losing the smile that seemed to soothe the boy. If only he'd known sooner... but the fact that he hadn't wasn't anyone's fault but his own and gods, did he feel guilty for it.

"Yay!" And now the exhaustion was clearly settling in, the next ecstatic exclaim halfway drown in a cute yawn. "Night, Dad!"

"Good night, Son Goten." With that he left the room after having hit the lights off.

He didn't head to his and Chichi's bedroom immediately though, taking a few minutes to give himself a small tour of the house. It's been so long, but most of the things had remained unchanged here, exactly like he remembered them to have been before his departure from this world. Now that he was back... it was so good to be home. He hadn't even been aware of how much he'd really missed it.

Eventually he did enter his own sleeping chamber, spotting Chichi by the closet, rummaging inside. He stopped behind her and watched her for a moment, noticing that all of his attires - which he didn't have very many of, and a lot of them were things his wife had bought for him and he seldom ever wore - still hung there neatly on the clamps. They even seemed to be freshly washed and ironed, too... Had she... All these years?

"You should have stored my clothes somewhere else... made more room for yours."

Chichi startled and veered around; she had almost forgotten that he did that - being so quiet in his motions that it would often leave her unaware of his presence. His gaze fell to garment she held in her hands, white and thin and silky. That nightgown...

She followed his gaze and pulled the piece of fabric closer to her chest nervously. "I..."

He reached for her- "Chi...", but when his fingertips brushed her cheek she flinched and took a tiny step back, almost bumping her slender back into the open closet door.

So his impression had been correct... She was recoiling from him for reasons he thought he could guess quite well. "I'm sorry, Chichi." Again he found himself apologizing. "I-" What else could he say, really? What more could he offer but apologies that could never be a fair compensation for leaving her all alone to raise two kids by herself. For pulling her through the grief and hardships of losing her husband, knowing he chose to stay away willingly...

His hand, frozen mere inches away from her, advanced again and Chichi held her breath, feeling the oh so familiar warmth of his palm settling against her cheek. Her heart was quivering in her chest, but not at all for the reasons he thought of. She wanted nothing more than to feel his touch again but she was so afraid... so afraid to give into it because she still feared it was all but a dream and he might disappear in the very next instant. It would crush her entirely and for good, if she allowed him close only to lose him again. She would not survive another time... to have the happiness of being together be ripped away from her again... No, she couldn't. It would kill her.

"I'll make this right... Chi, I promise." Another promise he was making today... It was the only thing he could offer in lieu of recompense. Moving, Goku closed the distance between them and wrapped his free arm around her, snapping all space between them into non-existence as he yanked her close gently but resolutely, feeling her slinky figure starting to tremble against him.

His thumb brushed along her cheek, lifting her face to let their gazes lock, seeing the sorrow mixing up with the longing and the happiness within the intricate depths of her eyes, trusting and familiar. There was all plea and hope and fear in them, and forgiveness that he didn't really deserve but would always receive from her regardless. Because she loved him, boundlessly and unconditionally and he really was the luckiest man in the world for having found that one woman who could so bravely put up with all the crap he pulled her through. All he could do now was try to make amends for a selfish decision which had seemed right at that time, yet in retrospect could probably not have been more wrong.

Didn't matter now, anyway. Because regretting it would not get him anywhere.

He inclined and angled his head until his lips were all but a breath apart from hers, hearing her exhale shakily, her filigree frame tensing in his safeguarding hold. "It's okay, sweetheart... It's me..." he cooed softly to her, sensing how hard she still struggled to grasp the veracity of the situation. Struggling to realize and accept that it was him - really him - alive and real here in front of her. So resistant to allow that truth in because she was too scared of the fact that it might all be just an illusion, that the very next moment he would be gone again... He was turning his beautiful wife into a wreck, wasn't he...?

The uncontrolled tremble of her delicate body was subsiding only slowly, something Goku sought to remedy with word and action alike. "It's okay now... I'm here." And he wasn't going anywhere. Ever again. "Shhh..." And then, very gingerly, he caught her sweet lips with his, coaxing a small, overwhelmed whimper out of her.

It was a torrent of emotions that swapped over Chichi's mind and heart the moment their lips touched, like water through a broken dam they burst through the barriers that had attempted to contain them. Her arms, having hitherto hung limply at her sides, swung upward, one of them grappling for that solid shoulder while the other clawed its dainty fingers into the front of his gi, giving him an unwittingly sharp tug closer. It caused her world to tumble and fade when he squeezed her in soft strength, the burden of the last seven years falling away from her as though the weight of the highest mountain had just been lifted off of her.

And she breathed again, painlessly and freely - for the first time in over half a decade.


	4. Purification

On a quick side note, yes, I am aware that Vegeta has gone SS2 during the Cell Saga. I never said anything about him not powering up to Super2 during the fight, 'tis why I wrote: "Gohan and Vegeta were both coated in a brilliant golden aura by now, Trunks and Goten flamed a bright yellow [...]"

Vegeta and Gohan were glowing a brilliant gold because both of them were Super Saiyan 2, while Trunks and Goten got the description of glowing a bright yellow to indicate that they only went SS1 since SS1 and SS2 are hard to diversify in description due to being so similar in appearance. If that description was too subtle for some of you to pick up, I apologize for the confusion. You can generally assume Vegeta and Goku go SS2 whenever I write something about them glowing any sort of gold, while good old simple yellow is reserved for SS1.

To everybody else, thank you lots for your support and words of appreciation, it's always a good motivation for my Muses and me! I'm aware that het fictions aren't quite as popular in the fandom, but yanno, I really don't care -laughs- I love me some good old man/woman romance and so long as there are at least a couple people who enjoy reading it as well, 's all the better. I'll try my best to keep going with this story and I would very much want to see it through and finished. And well, if you're able to give some support, that's great and of course always appreciated; I think most authors need that although I know that sometimes it's not enough to stop them from stopping. But well, no worries, I'm not planning on giving up on my story anytime soon =)

And now, on to some delicious Vegeta/Bulma action. Have fun!

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

**Purification**

Sighing softly Bulma clapped the top of a small kit next to her shut again. The girl lying in bed in front of her was fast asleep and she tried her best not to wake her while doing a quick, basic check-up. Spare for the brand mark, the tiny brunette sported some cuts and a couple of nasty bruises here and there, but her pulse was normal and no bones appeared to be broken as well as there was no apparent damage to any internal organs. She was exhausted and underfed but that was something a few days of good rest and decent food should be able to fix. The blue-haired genius had given the young one an injection of nutrients just to be sure and that was about all she could do for their unexpected guest right now, everything else would have to wait until the girl was awake again.

Getting up and out of the room, Bulma went upstairs first - to check on Trunks. The boy was sleeping soundly when she peeked into the room, which was probably not that much of a wonder considering the eventful day he'd put behind. Once upon a time it had been a very strange and scary thought to imagine her little boy fighting - be it in training with his father or some sort of threat on a faraway planet. Commonly mothers freaked out seeing their offspring getting as much as a cut, but Bulma learnt to accept the fact that her son was special. He was half-Saiyan and if his father was any indication, the way they grew and lived was completely different from human children.

Still, she was very glad that Trunks had arrived home from Namek looking unharmed, she didn't think she would have had the heart to see him beaten and bloody like she had seen his father on quite a few occasions. She need only remember Vegeta's self-destructive training sessions when he first stayed on Earth, the prince's high tolerance for pain and disregard for his own physical condition were staggering. Up until then she had only known Goku to be able to push his own limits so incredibly hard, although Vegeta took it to yet another level in the aspect that he could get so determined and stubbornly obsessed he would near well kill himself. That part of him had always equally scared and fascinated her.

Entering the master bedroom Bulma found it empty, instantly able to guess where he was. Slipping into her ballet flats she was outside in their courtyard little later, swiftly making her way across lush green towards the Gravity Room. The deep red light coming through the windows high up indicated that the devices inside were working and she pressed the button next to the entrance door, causing a mild ringing to echo dully from the inside. A moment later the red illumination changed back to normal yellow-whitish hue, the small panel integrated near the button showing her that the number of the gravity level had gone down to one again. Now it was safe to enter, which was what she did little later.

Vegeta stood by the large pillar in the room's middle, having just switched off the gravity and turning around to see his peeress enter. They weren't married - it wasn't a custom Saiyans had ever used nor did the word 'wife' hold much meaning to him, and he was averse to calling her girlfriend because it was a term invented by humans as well. Technically speaking she was a princess now, of a dead race that was. Piccolo had once asked him why he still referred to himself as prince of the Saiyans since he should be king now, with his father dead. But Vegeta had never been coronated and his father had never officially passed the title on to him - didn't have a chance. Not that it really mattered now, with only him and Kakarot remaining. Nevertheless, Bulma was now royalty by Saiyan standards. They had a kid together which was the Saiyan equivalent of marriage, he supposed. Once a couple had had a child together they were officially accepted as an item and a family in Saiyan society and frankly Vegeta thought that to be a far more solid commitment than putting a pair of trinkets around each other's fingers and exchanging some silly vows. Bulma did call him her boyfriend on occasion though, and over time Vegeta had stopped to mind.

"I take it you won't be coming to bed anytime soon?" She questioned softly, walking over to his heated up, sweaty form. As always when he trained, her prince wore little more than a pair of tight shorts and all those scars that covered his stalwart body. The plain of his marked, tanned skin told a long story of hardships and violence but it in no way disfigured him. Quite the contrary, no man had ever been more attractive to her eyes.

"No." A short and curt answer; he was in a bad mood. She could guess a few of the reasons and suspect a few more, halting near him and reaching out a hand to gently sift through his ebony spikes. He frowned but didn't reject her touch, which meant she had a chance at trying to offer some support.

"Does it bother you so much? Son-kun returning?"

The elite huffed, leaning back against the control pillar behind him and crossing his arms in front of his muscular chest. "It's not just that." He made a small pause, contemplating whether or not he wanted to talk about this. But she had that effect on him; in her presence, one on one, talking just seemed... easier. "This girl, Jion, the EST..." He shook his head. "I could very well guess what your friends were thinking today, when I told them."

Since by reclining back he had also escaped from under her hand, Bulma took another step forward and moved her slender arms to circle around his neck. "They're your friends, too, Vegeta." She insisted with soft confidence. "Nobody holds a grudge against you anymore, and nobody judges you for the things you did in the past."

The warmth and the pleasant fragrance of her fragile body beckoned him with persistence and his arms abandoned their defensive posture all by themselves, much more content with settling on her slim waist instead, drawing her closer. "Well, Kakarot and you don't. Piccolo either, very likely." He could admit to that. However..."I'm not so sure about everybody else."

He was still a prick to most of them and they treated them with required courtesy and respect, but he wasn't sure how honest that treatment was. Most of the time Vegeta thought they accepted him because Kakarot had decided to make the prince his friend and because Bulma was his lover. They had a son together. He was part of the group but he never really felt like he belonged.

The blue-haired genius shrugged lightly, leaning in to touch their foreheads together. "Screw everybody else, then."

The corner of Vegeta's mouth twitched a small grin; that reply was very Bulma. Yet another thing he liked about her, she didn't give a damn about other people's opinions on what she did or who she chose to be with. Perhaps it was his luck that they happened upon each other all those years back, he wasn't sure anyone else would have really been able to handle his screwed up personality.

"Trunks and I, we love you. Isn't that all that matters?" Saying that quietly, her arms around him fastened their grip a little.

His dark eyes stared into sky-blue counterparts, finding no flaw in her argumentation. Indeed, who cared about anyone else? He had his son; a wonderful boy who adored him. He had his lover; a beautiful woman who was his, willingly and entirely. He even had a loyal friend, because as much as he sometimes despised the fact, he knew Kakarot viewed him nothing short of a true comrade and would always be there to support him - in battle or otherwise - should Vegeta ever find a way to articulate a need for it. Which would probably never happen, but it was the thought that counted.

"I've slaughtered hundreds of thousands, Bulma," he remarked solemnly still. Millions, probably.

She leaned in and kissed him, reclining to whisper a sincere "I don't care," at his full lips.

"I've destroyed hundreds of planets." Including - almost - this one.

Her hand slithered down from his soldierly shoulder, smoothing along the chiseled artwork of his firm chest, and she kissed him again: "I don't care."

"I've sold people into slavery." Extraterrestrial beings like that girl everybody seemed to be so sympathetic towards. "Tortured and killed just for the hell of it."

Elegant fingers tapped over his well-toned abdomen, hooking into the elastic band of his shorts. Bulma's lips captured his again, lingering there a little longer. "I don't care..."

He felt the heat rising from within, trying to control his breathing when her nimble digits sneaked past the waistband into tight confines that were about to get even more restricting. "Why...?" How could it be that she didn't care about any of it? Other people would say he was a monster, a villain, a brutal beast... What was it she saw in him that nobody else, including himself, seemed to be able to see?

She gave him no reply - only a smile, sly and flirtatious alike, causing the smallest stutter to his breath as her dainty hand curled around the fair size of his manhood. The rhythm of her strokes was deliberately slow and sensual, feeling it swell in her palm and angling her head to brush her lips along his smooth cheek, further to his ear where her pearly teeth captured and tugged on his earlobe. That awarded her with a halfway suppressed groan, Vegeta's hands flexing their fingers on her hips, scratching mildly over the material of the dress covering them.

His scent was fire and power, the salty taste of his strong will and determination lingering on the skin of his neck that she coddled with soft licks and careful nibbles, indulging herself in her prince's pleasure for it was quite rare that he would allow himself to relinquish that much control. But whenever he did, it showed her that she was needed and that he did place trust in her, accepting the love and the comfort that she was always readily willing to offer. She cared not for who he'd been before they became this wonderful thing that they were together, because it only mattered who he was now. Hers.

The hot flesh in her diligent hand was hard and throbbing by now, his breath warm and heavy near her ear and it aroused her, all the more so because Bulma knew that goading him like this would pay off tenfold in a very near future. Beneath his hard shell Vegeta was a fierce and passionate man and that not only when it came to fighting. Wouldn't she know that.

It took less than a blink of an eye to find herself with her back to the wall all the way across the spot they had just been standing on, the sudden and rapid movement causing her head to spin and the air to catch in her lungs as his powerful frame pressed her against cool metal. Her hands were now captives of one of his own, strong digits holding both of her wrists crossed over each other and pinned over her clever head. His lips claimed hers, avidly and aggressively, plunging them into a deep, wet kiss that rendered her entirely breathless by the time that it ended. She felt his index finger under her chin, nudging her head upward lightly to cause her to open her eyes, their cerulean color darkened to a saturated, royal blue by the desire ignited within.

She watched his handsome face, the enigmatic expression on it and the tiny smirk hiding in the very corner of his appealing mouth. He was up to no good and she felt the tingle of excitement rattle through her every fiber as his free hand moved southwards, pulling a gasp out of her when it fondled her breast before continuing to slip lower, disappearing underneath her skirt not a second later. Those devious digits teased her belly button and then dived into her panties towards the heat and moisture in between her slender legs, pulling the first tuneful moan out of her frail throat by the will of two calloused fingers pushing inside her at once.

Her captured hands twitched in their restricted position, his grip resolute but entirely harmless in holding them in place. She felt herself going up in flames from the inside out when his fingers started moving in and out in fast, jerky motions, shocking her with that intense sensation and causing her voice to start pouring out of her in jagged gasps and sharp moans, barely managing to keep her eyes open a tiny crack, not that she saw much expect of indistinct blur but she knew he watched her sweetly flushed face - she could feel that gaze burning on her as he committed the crime of honeyed torture to her eager body. He made it delightfully worse by guiding some ki into his fingertips, its warm, tingly aura swinging within her and driving her crazy in such a wonderful, wonderful way. Trembling and writhing in her spot Bulma barely knew up from down anymore, calling for him in a rousing, needy plea.

"Veget-ah! Oh~...! God..." Please. She wanted, needed, hungered for him so much. She wanted him now. Right now.

Her legs were like cotton and too weak to hold her when he let go of her hands, although she was in no danger of slumping to the ground, powerful hands catching her and hoisting her up with charming ease so that she could wrap same weakened legs of hers around his sturdy hips. Secured in her position between the wall and the brilliance of his marvelously well-built body, she gripped his dependable shoulders for dear life, having never even noticed when he'd managed to rid himself of his shorts. Not that she minded, happily pressing her calves more tightly against the perfect shape of his firm, perky butt.

She herself still wore her clothes albeit not for long when Vegeta's decisive hands literally ripped them away in a few smooth, sharp motions, the sound of tearing fabric exhilarating both of them all the more. He was inside her with one fluent, straight push, causing her to cry out in salacious bliss and himself to release a smoky, rough groan in delight of the tight fit. She clung to him with all the miniscule strength of her slinky body as he began to plunge in and out of her in a driving, dynamic pace, throwing her head back and bending her spine inward in a graceful little arch, offering her voluptuous bosom to him, the hotness of his mouth and the wetness of his tongue around her hardened nipple soon delivering additional blows to her overheating senses.

Wetness and welcoming heat was what surrounded him as well, every time he immerged himself into the wonderful depths of her delicate figure, enchanted by the tuneful melody of her steadily rising voice singing to him in most sensual, erotic sounds only for his ears to ever hear. It was an honest to god rush, intoxicating and all-erasing, leaving barely a scrap of sanity in the very corner of his eclipsing mind cautioning him from losing all control. But the pressure was building, rising, welling up, fast and steadily until he released some of it by going Super with a beautifully dark, untamed growl, lighting a dazzling golden aura around them, burning out the black from his hair to be replaced by shimmering aureate while intricate onyx got swept away by iridescent teal behind the barriers of tightly shut eyelids.

Bulma released another wild outcry, feeling his arousal so suddenly expand in size within her thanks to the transformation, stretching her even further and filling her out all the more, striking deeper and harder at that delightful bundle of nerves buried inside her. His stately, reliable body she so desperately clung to swelled with power within her grip as well, the solidity of his defined, athletic physique becoming even more prominent against the velvet of her skin wherever it touched to his. She had lost all coherency to her thoughts by now, there was only him, only Vegeta. Only her prince and no one else, just him and her in the vastness of the universe, chanting his name under the mess of her breathing, under all the whimpers and moans and heady cries ricocheting off the walls around them, imprinting the invisible memory of their union on the very fabric of the metal.

She clutched at her man for dear life, driving neatly manicured fingernails into tough, hot skin bathed in rivulets of sweat, feeling the flex of his muscles beneath her vice grip. Her own slinky body slumped forward abruptly, weaving her arms around his broad shoulders and gripping tight, burying her face against the crook of his fair neck, no longer even aware of what sounds she might have been making as he pounded into her, his hands underneath her shapely buttocks jerking her into the blissful motions of his hips every single time to make the perception even more acute.

Gods, how much she loved him. This. Them. Moments of sheer, pure passion like this between the two of them were the very air her loving heart breathed in, beating rapidly and hard against the cage of her breakable ribs, attempting to blast through them entirely and settle next to its chosen mate drumming equally fiercely in the firm chest pressed so tightly against her own. He was lifting her higher and higher and higher until a violent jolt of electricity barreled through every last nerve tract of her feline frame, shocking her sense and senses into a most intense sensation which pushed a scream out of her, calling his name as orgasm hit her fast and hard, ardently clamping up around him inside and out.

The ecstatic spasms of her inner walls caused the last few thrusts to be mind-blowingly amazing for her lover, shattering Vegeta's world into smithereens with the hefty wave of ecstasy hitting home. He had never been very vocal during intercourse, more for coaxing the sounds out that making them himself. This time as well, gulping down a pocketful of air he rode out the bliss of his climax with his mind going somewhere entirely else and leaving him nothing but a wonderfully weightless existence in the wideness of the world. It was an addictive, beatific sensation that never failed to captivate him anew, this time as well until he floated back into reality with a husky, masculine groan, having emptied himself into the depths of her lithe little form.

She was still trembling perceptibly in his arms in the wake of the aftershocks, her grip around him relaxed and loose now as she panted softly in her hiding place against his neck. He took a few deep breaths and powered down again, trying to steady his own wildly drumming heart and leveling his messy breathing back to a somewhat normal rhythm again, much quicker to recompose than his lovely peeress.

"You okay?" He asked in a voice lowered and raspy from the undergone sensations, feeling her nod feebly, content with that. Last thing he'd want to do was to hurt her, though up to now she had never mentioned he did.

Nevertheless, after especially ardent sessions like tonight, Bulma appreciated the subtle display of care. She was utterly and entirely spent, mewling softly at the loss of the physical connection between them as he went about carefully disentangling her quivering legs from around him and juggling her featherweight so that it may come to rest in the carriage of his arms little later. The young Briefs heiress kept her arms around her prince's neck, snuggling up closer to the safeguarding warmth and unfailing strength of his muscular body, lulled even further into a state between sleep and reality by the gentle rocking of him walking towards the exit of the Gravity Room. The lights would switch off automatically in a few moments, when the machine would register the lack of living presence inside.

In another moment Vegeta lifted off the grass-covered ground outside the GR, cloaking his lover's shapely figure with his ki so that the breeze of the short flight towards their opened bedroom window might not chill her. Once inside, he lowered her onto the downy mattress and freed her dainty feet from the flats she still sported as the only piece of attire before pulling the covers over her already peacefully sleeping form and shutting said window again. He then put on a pair of boxers since he wasn't quite ready for bed just yet. He did feel satisfied and pleasantly tired himself, yet not tired enough to forgo his habitual last stop which he made every night before going to sleep.

Down the hallway and towards a familiar door that he pushed ajar, gazing into the moonlit darkness. He stood there for a few long minutes, feeling the small, special ki pulsating calmly around the tiny bundle of precious life curled up under the blankets, listening to his son's steady, sound breathing. This was family, this was home; his son and his lover safe under one roof and him a guard to their mental and physical integrity. He wanted to be a better partner, a better parent than his own father had been. King Vegeta had been a strong ruler but he had been a terrible dad and an even worse life companion. Vegeta had never known his mother and for the longest time he hadn't know what had happened to her either, until Nappa had told him the truth after their home planet's destruction. Sometimes he wondered if he would have been better off never knowing it.

He was aware of the fact that he was still very far from being good at either parenting or having a relationship, but he was trying his best. So long as he could keep both Bulma and Trunks safe and alive, he was content with his achievements in the interpersonal department. Now with this strange girl here, he wondered if he soon had to step up to his duty and protect them and his new home from another threat. The easiest way to avoid trouble would be kicking the girl out altogether, but one didn't need to be a genius to surmise that Kakarot and most of his posse would never agree with that.

Not that Vegeta himself would seriously consider such an option, it was a coward's method to repel a problem and he knew only one way of dealing with any sort of issue - taking it head on and exterminating it from existence. Didn't really matter who that girl was, who Jion was, much like the memories of Freeza, the EST and all that other bullshit didn't matter either. What mattered was the here and now. The here and now where he would act an impregnable shield for his family. Perhaps it would be beneficial for him as well, perhaps if he focused on protecting and saving something rather than being the best and the strongest, he would find it as easy to surpass his own limits as Kakarot seemed to do. Perhaps therein lied the true key to unlimited power and potential... He didn't know, but he was willing to try.

He stood there for a long time; watching, listening, thinking. Eventually he returned to the master bedroom and got under the covers, exhaling a deep, prolonged breath and closing his eyes, feeling Bulma shift in her sleep next to him. It seemed to be an instinct of hers by now, turning and cuddling up to his side. His arms were accommodating to her resting form, slipping underneath her upper body to help her smart head come to rest atop his sturdy shoulder, his firm hand settling to gently wander up and down her upper arm, feeling the silky texture of her flawless skin beneath the roughness of his calloused palm.

They were covered in invisible blood, these hands of his, the extinguished lives and dying breaths of millions staining him from head to toe. And yet... right here and right now, lying here with Bulma's fragile presence in his arms, it was like her very existence was purifying his own from the inside out. The faith she had in him and the love she held for him, the gift of life and fatherhood that she had given him, the chance for redemption she had offered, the salvation that was their togetherness... It washed the darkness and the evil from him, like brilliant, crystal-clear water washed away filth from a dirt-stained ground. She had filled the void and the gaping hole within him, left by the way he'd been raised and lived his life until she came along, by the destruction of his home planet and the shameful years of servitude to the monster who'd stolen from him everything he had ever had and been.

Tonight as well, she had purified the darkness and the chaos of his thoughts, doubts and misgivings, showing him that he had a reason to be and a motive to live besides the fighting and the challenge of becoming the strongest and the best. And it was thanks to her delicate, breakable existence snuggled up to him so trustingly, that tonight was another night where the proud prince Vegeta would be able to sleep peacefully and soundly the way he had never been able to do before he had met the beguiling Miss Bulma Briefs.


	5. Trust

This one took a little longer, but it also got like... really long -laughs- I first pondered splitting it up in two chapters but yanno. If it turned out as one long one, it turned out one long one.

Thank you to my wonderful reviewers, I'm glad you liked my take on Vegeta and Bulma's relationship, and yes, you're guessing right about the third pair of this story XD Piccolo's one of my favorite characters from DBZ and I hope Lynn will turn out worthy of him.

Also thanks for pointing out the lack of picked characters. I could have sworn I've added them when I uploaded the story, but somehow it apparently didn't save my choices. Fixed it up now =)

I hope all of you had a wonderful, merry Christmas and celebrated nice and well with family and friends!

And now, please enjoy the next installment. Off goes:

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

**Trust**

He was here early. Way too early. Why, he couldn't tell. He hadn't been able to sleep properly last night, either; he had kept turning and tossing about, thinking, thinking, thinking. Thinking about Namek and that girl, thinking about Jion and that girl, thinking about this thing or the other... and that girl. He didn't know why he couldn't get her out of his head, her image was persistently staying in his mind and questions about her kept crowding him. And now he was here, at Capsule Corporation, standing in the backyard under the tree she had been plucked off of by Goku yesterday. He was the first one here, spare for the inhabitants of the house itself, that was.

He could feel Vegeta and Bulma inside, along with Trunks and the Briefs' couple yet he couldn't feel the girl, remembering his conversation with Goku. How come she didn't have any ki signature? He'd been raking through the collective of his, Kami's and Nail's memories yesterday trying to recall if either of them had ever encountered something like that but so far there was no answer as to why a living being didn't have some kind of life's aura around them.

"You're the one who caught me and carried me to bed yesterday, aren't you? Thank you."

He startled inwardly but remained unaffected on the outside, opening his onyx eyes to see the one he had just been thinking about standing in front of him. Perhaps he should lay off his habit of shutting out his sight when he waited, he relied on ki-sensing too much and her presence made it clear that such a tendency was of great disadvantage should you encounter somebody who didn't have any palpable energy to feel.

"Don't mention it." Replying, he kept his arms crossed over his chest, watching her pretty face and the intricate, amber eyes which seemed to glow softly in the early light of the rising sun. "How are you feeling?"

A small smile graced her filigree features. "Better, thank you." A good night's rest had done her a ton of good and she had actually been spared any nightmares, sleeping like a baby. She wondered if she had him to thank for that as well. He had told her she was safe here, and peculiarly enough... she believed him. "My name is Aislynn, by the way. Lynn for short, if you like. May I ask yours?"

Aislynn, huh? It wasn't a name he had ever heard before, and it had quite a nice ring to it. "Piccolo." He introduced himself. "And I'm a little bit torn between asking you a lot of questions and waiting for the others before I do so." If only to spare her the trouble of recounting everything twice. He could suspect that whatever tale she would have to tell, it would not be a pleasant one to relive.

She let loose a tiny giggle; a melodious and rather cute sound. "Then how about I ask the questions for now, since I'm pretty sure your friends know the answers to most of them already."

The corner of his mouth twitched a grin, briefly baring one sharp, pearly canine. That sounded like a fair deal. "Alright, shoot."

Her inquiries were common for a person in her position: where am I, who are you, what is going to happen next? So he told her what he thought was essential for her to know: that she was on a planet called Earth which was a part of the solar system, mentioning the few important names which mostly included the two Saiyans who he explained were aliens as well, and their families. He gave her a couple important details about Namek and the Dragonballs, also telling her how they had received the SOS from Moori and how they had met that strange red-haired individual.

"His name is Raz." She clarified softly for him. "He is Jion's right-hand man. I have seen you and your friends fight him... it was incredible. I have never witness him retreating from a battle before."

"Well he better get used to it, then." The gruff voice that pronounced those words belonged to Vegeta whom Piccolo had sensed coming outside moments ago. He sensed Goku and the man's kids approaching as well, the prince nodding back towards the house.

"Let's head in. Bulma insists we all have breakfast, and I'm sure Kakarot is gonna wanna hear her story, too."

Thus in another few minutes all of them were in the kitchen and once the girl had introduced herself to everybody else as well, it was her turn to talk. It appeared that after having been purchased by Jion through the EST, she had been taken to Jigessar - his home planet where she had lived in his servitude for the next ten years, something she didn't seem willing to elaborate on and nobody pushed her to. Their focus lay more on Jion, apparently a monarch ruling his people with a hard, iron fist. The man they had met on Namek was Jion's uncle and closest subordinate - Raz, a man well-known and well-feared at court.

Jion had kept her close all this time, saying something about needing to wait for her 18th birthday - which lay but a couple of weeks back by now. She knew not what exactly he had meant, but she admitted to having started to feel different about a month before said day. One night she had fallen asleep and awoke outside the palace, not knowing when or how she had gotten there. She had managed to sneak back unnoticed but it had happened again and again, taking her farther and father from the palace every time, until one day she'd awoken on an entirely different part of Jigessar. Jion and his men had spent days looking for her and when they'd found her and brought her back to him, he'd seemed ecstatic. He said that ability of hers would be his soon, and then had her locked away in some strange chamber that apparently wouldn't allow her to disappear anymore. There, she had spent the last few days until her birthday.

"I didn't know what ability he had meant, how to control it... Nobody of my race was alive to explain it to me, either... It always simply... happened. Randomly. It did on my birthday as well, when he... fetched me from the cell and tried to take it from me." She fell silent, staring at the table top with her hands in her lap, her fingers curled into the skirt of her plain dress covering her thighs.

"Tried to take it? How?" Asking, Bulma caught Lynn's uncertain glance towards the two young demis sitting there who had listened to her story eagerly and with wide open eyes.

"He hurt you... right?" The blue-haired genius guessed softly, receiving a small nod of head.

"He did... Badly, and a lot..." Her voice was now a stifled whisper pressured by suppressed tears; the memories were still fresh and so were the wounds they'd left.

Something stirred within Piccolo just then, a protective kind of anger. He blamed it on Kami and the former guardian's compassion for innocence and those unjustly treated, yet he couldn't deny that her misery touched him on a far more personal level as well. Why did her pain affect him this much...? It unnerved him.

"During it, I... I fainted eventually, and then I woke up there... on Namek." Mild trembling seized control of her slender frame as her fingers curled even further into the material she clutched. "He will come look for me. Not getting what he wanted; that is an insult to him and his authority. He will come look for me and he will find me."

Reaching out a soothing hand, Bulma gently placed it on the girl's slim shoulder, squeezing in encouragement. "Nothing will happen to you, sweetie. We've got plenty good men who can protect you. Right?" She directed her gaze at Goku, a confident smile stretching his lips as he nodded.

"Right. Don't worry, you'll be safe here." It didn't matter whether it was a planet or a single living being in need of saving, Goku wasn't someone to ignore anyone's plight or walk away from cruelty without trying to help. Ultimately, Vegeta was right - his fellow Saiyan was an oaf with a big heart, and nobody would want him to be any different.

"Yeah! Only cowards hurt girls! We're gonna punch him good and proper for you, Lynn!" Trunks and Goten declared in unison, their youthful verve and puerile morals lighting up the mood while Lynn finally did let a few tears of gratitude fall.

"Thank you... Thank you so much..." It was the first time in her life that somebody treated her kindly, like she was actually worth something. Anything at all, maybe even the effort of protection. Ten years of slavery had witted away at her self-worth to the point where there was barely any of it left, but these people... they made her feel like a person again, not just an object. A collector's item, a rare possession, an exotic token of wealth... She was more than just that... wasn't she...?

"You're welcome. Just leave it up to us." Goku offered the poor thing another smile, choosing the next question to be one that intrigued and bothered likely all of them. "But say, do you know of ki? Or energy signature?"

Wiping her tears away, Lynn meekly shook her head. "I... don't think so."

"Well, you see, normally every living being has a sort of... aura around them. A thin layer of energy, and the stronger they are the stronger that layer pulsates around them. Yet you... I can't sense anything from you at all. Not even a flicker." He didn't know if he'd managed to explain it properly, it was hard to put in plain words something as complicated and sensatory as that.

All the same, she looked about as lost as they felt on that matter. "I'm sorry... I don't know. Maybe I'm just too weak to have such an... aura?"

Standing near the window with his back leaned casually against the wall, it was Piccolo who spoke up next. "Normally, if there is no ki at all coursing about a body, it means that the organism is dead." She glanced over to him and he closed his eyes, which made him appear nonchalant but truly he had just avoided looking at her because the sight of tears on her face were making him feel... something he couldn't put a finger on. Anyway. "But since you are walking and talking, its quite a peculiarity."

Goku meanwhile, furrowed his brows in a pensive expression. "Have you ever encountered something like this, Vegeta?" Turning to his fellow Saiyan, he watched the prince shrug lightly.

"Can't say I have, but it doesn't surprise me all too much. I've seen a lot of strange things in space, though admittedly nothing living without an energy level whatsoever. The scouters were normally very exact and reliable about it, they could measure power levels from an intensity as low as zero point zero one. Maybe hers is just blocked off by something, or so subliminally suppressed that you can't pick it up."

Visually she resembled a human being quite a lot alright, yet that didn't change the fact that she was from another planet and an entirely different species. Whatever her ability was supposed to be, it apparently allowed her to teleport herself around - granted without her knowledge and control just yet, but if that was part of who she was, then the absence of ki might just as well be another trait of her extinct race.

"Either way, that Jion guy seems to know a thing or two about her. Maybe we can poke him with a few questions if he does manage to find her and arrive here." Gohan suggested, which indeed sounded reasonable enough. Powerful beings not seldom had a big mouth, if only to boast about something they thought was a great achievement on their part.

"Well, there's no helping this right now, is there?" Standing up, Bulma patted the girl's shoulder with another congenial smile on her pretty face. "Come on, sweetie. I would like to do a check-up on you, if you don't mind. Gotta make sure you're of strong and sound health, no?" Who knew what that Jion pig might have done to the poor thing. Bulma could suspect, but she hoped to be proven wrong.

Once she and Lynn had stepped out, Goku rose up his seat, too. "Well, Goten and I wanted to go fishing today. Any of you guys wanna tag along?" He asked merrily, his youngest next to him grinning happily from ear to ear. Obviously this was something he looked forward to very much.

Gohan was the first to reply. "Sorry, dad, I have to pass. I sorta got a date," and he blushed saying that.

"O-ha! Way to go, son!" Laughing out, Goku delivered a firm, approving slap to his firstborn's sturdy back while Piccolo smirked lightly in approval. The boy was really growing up now, wasn't he?

"But we could go, right, dad?" With bright child's eyes full of hope gazing up at him, Vegeta frowned, feeling the uncertainty creep up on him. He could see how much Trunks wanted to do this together with him, but at the same time his pride roared at him that he was above doing something as mundane as fishing - with Kakarot nonetheless.

"No. If there's really a battle coming, we should spend our time intensifying our training, not fooling around." Even though a part of him would have actually liked that... spending some quality time with his son. But admitting to that wasn't something he could do, much less so in front of an entire group of people.

"Aw, come on, Vegeta." Goku gave persuasion a go as well. "It's gonna be fun! We can go for a swim, grill some fish, chat. Catch up a little?"

For a million different reasons he couldn't name, that stupid, open-minded, inviting grin pissed the prince off, transforming his frown into a full-grown scowl. He hated how easy it was for that carefree fool. How happy his kids seemed to be despite the fact that he had freaking abandoned them for over seven years. Why did he make it look so effortless, bonding with your children and making them happy? Deep down inside Vegeta was also angry with himself. Why couldn't he be more like the other Saiyan in that regard? In the very same breath he hated the very thought of taking Kakarot as an example for anything at all.

"I don't do barbeques and chit-chats, Kakarot. So stuff you stupid grin, and your invitation, too." With that he veered around on his heels and marched out of the kitchen, leaving a very crestfallen and dejected-looking Trunks behind. The boy couldn't possibly know the real source for his father's anger, so now he felt guilty for upsetting him. All he had really wanted, was to spend some time with his dad.

Scratching at the back of his head, Goku sounded a sheepish laugh. "Oh my. I've gone and gotten him angry." It had not been his intention, but he never knew how to really approach Vegeta without setting him off. His very existence seemed to be a thorn in the prince's side and he very much wanted to fix that somehow. Another difficult task atop of the many other things he had to fix, now that he was back on Earth.

Directing his attention to Trunks, Goku offered him a bright, heartening smile. Poor boy looked like a kicked puppy, which his compassionate heart could hardly stand. "You can still come along with us if you want, Trunks."

Goten was instantly enthusiastic about the idea of his best friend joining them. "Yeah! Come on, Trunks-kun, it will be great!"

The older demi's hopeful eyes focused on Goku. "Really?"

Déjà vu. The full-blooded Saiyan nodded, sounding cheerful and encouraging alike. "Really."

"Yay!"

Outside in the GR, Vegeta was seething and gritting his teeth, feeling his son's ki leave together with his rival and the man's brat. Barely a day back on Earth, and Kakarot was already trying to take things away from him. Letting out a dark growl, he charged up and went Super, shooting a blast at the nearest training droid. It reflected the energy back at him, hitting his chest. It stung but he welcomed the harmful sensation; looked like inurnment and endurance were on the workout plan today.

The trio heading off to the river had invited Piccolo to come along as well, but he had politely declined. He could guess that Goku wanted to spend some time with his youngest and he didn't want to intrude. Might be good that Trunks went with them as well, given how big a part of Goten's life the other demi was, Goku should get to know him better as well. It left Piccolo flying back to the Lookout - alone. He had the silliest thought right then, too, of maybe inviting Lynn to spend some time. Show her God's palace, or... yeah. Or what else? He couldn't really show her any other interesting places except some very nice, secluded nature spots.

Frankly, he would just like to talk to her and get to know her better, so the location wouldn't matter. To him. What about her, though? Given the way she'd been treated... Besides, who said she'd even be interested. Why was he even bothering with this to begin with? Wasn't the first evening he was going to spend alone, and would likely not be the last either; he should be plenty used to it by now. He didn't know why thinking that sort of made him feel rather... disheartened. Or maybe lonesome was the better term to use. Screw this. He didn't need any company, least of all that of a girl he barely knew. He didn't need any of this... Did he...?

By the time Piccolo had reached the Lookout, Bulma was about done with Lynn's examination. Aside from the cuts and bruises she had already seen yesterday, she was relieved to find nothing else spare for a couple of scars the origins of which she didn't ask about. Given her past it was no surprise that the girl spoke little unless she was being directly addressed with a comment or a question, and Bulma avoided asking too many of the latter also in view of the fact that Lynn was still weakened. She needed preferably stress-free rest so digging around in the obviously painful subject of her past was way too soon.

Therefore, having finished with the check-up, Bulma showed the young one back to the guestroom and shooed her into bed with the promise to bring her lunch later in the day. The TV had immediately caught Lynn's attention, especially the science and history channels explaining the many things and happenings that had been and still were shaping the planet called Earth. A curious thing she seemed to be, so the blue-haired genius just smiled to herself and left the girl to her educational pastime throughout the day, disturbing it only with the promised lunch she had brought up.

The day went by quite fast from there, Trunks returning home from his fishing trip and Vegeta coming out of his GR in time for dinner, Lynn coming out to join them at the table as well. Bulma's quick accession of the situation after a couple of minutes was a rather bitter one: Trunks seemed upset, digging around in his food and barely touching anything. Much like his father who looked gloomy and irate, although that had no effect on his appetite - he had burnt through a lot of energy during his intense training and had to replenish his nigh exhausted reserves. He had cleaned up before dinner but she could still see some fresh injuries on his arms and chest, hinting at the fact that his training session today had been one of the harsher kinds which in turn was a good hint at his current frame of mind. The angrier Vegeta was, the more prone he was of hurting himself through some ridiculously rigorous exercises. If was almost like a form of punishing himself, but it was always way too hard to tell what would really be going through his mind on days like these.

Lynn was eating, too, taking tiny bites and sips and obviously feeling uncomfortable in the face of the invisible, uneasy tension in the air. She was done quite quickly and timidly excused herself then, all but fleeing out of the kitchen and up to her room. She didn't know if it was her fault or not, but there seemed to be a shortage of domestic bliss right now and she didn't feel very welcome amidst it right now.

"Trunks, honey. Stop playing with your food and eat something. You haven't taken a proper bite yet." Imploring her son softly, Bulma watched a scowl worthy of his father's settle on the boy's youthful features.

"I'm not hungry," he grumbled, also not unlike his dad. Bulma would have smiled about the resemblance if the circumstances had been different, but just then she furrowed her brows in concern.

"Now that's nothing I have ever expected to hear from you." Normally, his appetite was worthy of his father's, too. "Is something the matter?"

"No. Can I go to my room?"

"Not before you've eaten up." Vegeta cut in, his words hard and intolerant to objection. It was then, very unexpectedly, that his hair blew up on him.

"Shut up! I'm not a soldier for you to order around! I'm your son!" It left both parents speechless, Trunks using the opportunity to rush out of the kitchen and upstairs into his room.

Vegeta's ki spiked as anger contorted his expression, but before he could storm off after his son Bulma's pacifying hand touching to his forearm stopped him. "I'll talk to him." Leaning over to her prince, she placed a comforting kiss on his cheek and stood up.

The elite murmured something incomprehensible yet complied and stayed put - it was probably better if she handled this indeed, he wasn't very known for his sensitivity in such matters. Trunks' little outburst had shocked him, regardless the straight face he had managed to keep during it. The boy had never before risen his voice at him like that, so why today? Did it have something to do with that stupid fishing trip he'd taken with Kakarot and the man's brat? He would break that fool's spine if he'd done anything to upset his heir. Either way, there was only one way to find out and even though he wasn't really the type for eavesdropping, Vegeta got up his seat and soundlessly made his way upstairs as well.

After having knocked on the door and received no reply, Bulma had entered her son's bedroom, lightly leaning the piece of wood shut behind her. Trunks lay flat on his stomach upon the covers of his neatly made bed, his face buried on his downy pillow. Nearing the bed she eased down onto its edge, reaching out to sift her long fingers through the pale amethyst silk of his hair. "Wanna tell me what's wrong?" asking in gentle inflection, she received no reaction whatsoever at first.

"Did something happen today at the river? Did you have a fight with Goten, maybe?" A small shake of head and still no verbal reply but at least she was getting somewhere now. "Come on, honey. Talk to me." She urged him gingerly, waiting out the silence for another few moments, never stopping to caress his velvety strands soothingly. Eventually then...

"Dad doesn't like me very much... does he? Even though I'm his son."

Such a statement caught her off guard something good. "What...? That is nonsense, Trunks. Your father loves you."

Turning his head, Trunks glared up at but the anger was all but a frail facade to cover up the misery in sad, sapphire-hued eyes. "Does he? He barely ever wants to do anything with me, except training." And even though he could enjoy that, too, having experienced the contrast between casual fun times and fighting exercise up close and personal today had forced many questions into his young mind.

Sitting up on the bed, the boy leaned back against the wall it stood at and pulled his legs up, hugging his knees as he stared sullenly at his own arms. "Today, ne... Goten looked so happy with Goku-san. Catching fish, making fire, grilling, swimming... I have never seen him this happy before." Granted, Goten was a cheerful and energetic kid by nature, gullible and optimistic yet Trunks hadn't seen him this delighted and in such high spirits... ever. He was lighting up like the sun every time his father hugged him, or tossed him in the air or fooled around with him. Not that Trunks would know how it felt like given that the only physical contact he had with his father was when they sparred. And usually, that wasn't too much fun because his parent rarely took it easy on him.

"They talked about so many things. Goten would tell him about school and us and the most random things about his days, and Goku-san told us about his training in the Otherworld, about his adventures after Namek, his fights in the tournaments and the Red Ribbon army." They had made it look so easily, talking with each other. Father-son conversations like Trunks couldn't remember ever having with his own dad. He could talk about all and anything with his mother if he wanted, he knew, but it was different. There were still things she couldn't - and wouldn't - understand.

He looked up at her, eyes glistening in childlike incomprehension. "Dad used to be a solider in outer space, didn't he? You said he'd been a commander, travelling through the galaxy. And before that, he used to be a prince, right? My grandfather was a king, there was an entire planet of Saiyans, a kingdom, and he'd been there. Seen it. He never tells me anything about any of that. He never tells me anything at all, only how to fight." And Trunks was curious. More than curious, he was dying to know all and anything about his father. The man was not only his parent, he was his role model and a hero in his youthful eyes, he admired him. His strength, his iron willpower, that noble, prideful spirit. He strived to be like him but so far none of his efforts were really paying off.

Most of what he knew about his dad, he'd learnt from his mother. There were still millions of questions, millions of things he wanted to know about him. He wanted to spent so much more time with him, not in the GR but outside, like Goten and Uncle Goku had today. It looked like so much fun. He wasn't used to be jealous of Goten but today... today he'd wanted to switch places with his best friend.

"I used to think if I try very, very hard, if I become strong and if I show him how good I am at fighting, he would be proud of me. I wanted him to notice me, to spend time with me... so I would train and train and train, I wanted to be able to live up to his strength. I thought if I did that... then maybe..." Maybe he would be acknowledged. Maybe he would be able to get closer to his father through the thing the man seemed to value most - power and strength. But...

Dropping his head down onto his knees again, Trunks clenched his eyes shut tight. He wouldn't cry. Crying was a weakness. His father would never respect him if he saw him like this, would he? Suppressing the tears, they echoed all the more in the stifled, discouraged melody of his voice. "Am I not trying hard enough? He's disappointed with me, right?" Thinking that, hurt.

And it was a pain Vegeta was able to hear in that dear voice, too, standing outside his son's room. With his powerful arms hanging limply to his sides, the back of his head soundlessly hit against the wall behind him, his obsidian eyes staring up at the dim ceiling over him with unseeing eyes as his features twisted up in an expression of misery and regret. His heir's pain was ricocheting right at him, and he felt awful hearing all that. Oh, Trunks. If you only knew...

"Back on Namek, I couldn't do anything at all to help him with that Raz guy. He's mad that I'm so weak, isn't he?" The boy tried to hold them back but one tear slipped away and then the next and the next and one more and another. He bit his lower lip furiously, but it helped nothing at all. "I'm not strong like him. I don't even look anything like him..." Whereas Goten was the carbon copy of his dad. You could see the resemblance right away, everyone would know they're father and son just at a glance. But if he stood next to his own father, they almost looked like strangers. The only thing Saiyan about him was his power, he didn't even have black hair like the rest of them.

Arms going around him pulled him into his mother's warm embrace. Trunks felt her lips touch to the top of his head as she cradled him, cooing softly. "That's not true, honey. You and your father, you're much more alike than you know."

Closing her eyes, she rocked him gently, stroking his silky strands. Gods, how to explain it to him? Vegeta was such a complicated person, even she herself still had trouble figuring him out sometimes. A comparison to Goku wasn't fair, but who could blame Trunks for it? He knew nothing of his father's past and he was far too young to be able to pick up in the prince's aloof behavior all those subtleties which so clearly contradicted everything the boy had just said and every other upsetting thing he might think. A father who did not love his son with everything he was would not wake up in the middle of the night just to look in on him, and stand minutes on end by his door just to listen to him breathe.

"I know it's hard for you to see right now... But he loves you very much. He is just..." She had tried to keep him sheltered from the ugly truths about his father's past, thinking he was too young for that but maybe... the time was nearing where he should know. She just didn't know how to tell him. "He is just not very good in showing that, you know? It's hard for him to talk about himself and his past, too. It was a much harsher one than Son-kun's, and is not as easily spoken of as exciting adventures." Not that she in any way wanted to downgrade Goku's experiences and personality in that regard, she just wanted to help her son see the difference.

"And you shouldn't envy Goten-kun the happiness and fun with his dad. Remember, he didn't have one for over seven years. Imagine how sad that must have made him, and how hard it must have been for him to watch you and your father do things together."

That managed to calm Trunks down considerably, the depression and sadness on his features replaced by insightful pensiveness. He truly had not thought about that. "I... I guess you're right..." He couldn't imagine growing up without his dad, feeling a painful sting just thinking about it. Goten had never really shown many signs of being upset about it, yet maybe today's happenings were the proof of how much he'd really been missing a father. Trunks had been more than happy to share his dad with his best friend throughout the years, and maybe they could share uncle Goku in a similar manner as well. After all, their fathers were very different and perhaps it was exactly perfect this way.

"But what do you mean about dad and his past?" He looked up at her, her gentle hands wiping away the trails of his quickly drying tears as she smiled softly.

"That, you best ask him yourself once the moment is right."

"And when's that?"

Bulma laughed out and pinched his little cheeks. "That, you have to figure out for yourself, my dear. With your father, you can never say for sure."

"Tell me about it," he grumbled and it made her laugh even more, which resulted in Trunks laughing together with her a moment later. She told him not to worry and trust in the fact that his father would do anything for him, leaving him with a goodnight kiss and hoping that he would sleep tight, that she had managed to ameliorate most of his doubts and fears.

Stepping out of the room, the hallway was empty and dark; it had gotten pretty late. She found Vegeta in their bedroom, already under the covers. The moonlight streaming in was playfully bouncing off his silhouette lying on its side with his back towards her and she left the lights switched off as she quietly rummaged around in preparation for sleep as well.

Lying there with his eyes closed, Vegeta listened to the soft sounds she made. The lightweight steps as she slipped into the adjoining master bathroom, the mild clatter of various utensils she'd use to wipe away the make-up and brush out her hair, the distant hiss of the faucet and bristles rubbing against enamel.

All the while, he was replaying the conversation between her and their son. She had once again put so much effort into explaining to the boy how his father worked. Into justifying his behavior and the rough quirks of his personality, into putting him back in good graces with his one and only heir. It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to tell Trunks things. It was just that he didn't know how. More so, it was that he didn't have much to tell that wasn't... shameful or shocking in a way. Vegeta had no valiant, proud tales of good triumphing over evil. He was no hero and no savior, unlike Kakarot he had no gallant deeds and brave endeavors done for the good of all and the sake of the world to tell of.

In fact, all he had was the exact opposite. A space soldier? A commander? A prince? Hah. It all sounded noble and courageous and grand the way Bulma would put it in for their son, but the truth beneath was much uglier. An underling of a space tyrant going on rampages and killing sprees by his command. The leader of all two loyal warriors, none of who he had ever valued as much as he should have. Everybody else had been obeying him only because they had feared him and because Freeza told them to. He had inspired no devotion and allegiance in others the way Goku had done. Nappa and Radditz had been the only truly faithful subjects he'd had left but he had gone and carelessly thrown them away before he had learnt to truly appreciate them. He should have realized it sooner... They had been the last of their kind, and he had cast them aside like nothing. Didn't make him much of a leader, or a prince, did it? His empire was dead dust in space, his race extinct.

He had killed and laid things - living and otherwise - to waste just for the hell of it. His tales were all dark and violent, filled with death and blood and murder, and the pleasure taken in monstrosities be they done by him or somebody else. He was not Kakarot. In fact he was the exact opposite, and even his strength he so prided himself on had been surpassed by that man times and again. What could he really tell his son that would make Trunks proud of having him for a father? What could he really teach his heir aside of fighting? The morals and values of his past and of his former self were all things he would never want to see transpiring in the boy.

The mattress rocked lightly as Bulma's featherweight joined him beneath the blanket, her warm, slinky body scooting closer and pressing up to his durable back. Propping herself up on her elbow, her velvety lips touched to his shoulder, lingering there for a few moments in a prolonged kiss. He watched her delicate fingers tiptoe along the muscular plain of his chest, letting them trace nonsensical patterns on his tough skin for a long moment before bringing up his own hand to capture her delicate appendage and give it a careful squeeze. Head turned, Vegeta's unreadable gaze of deep onyx met its softer, azure counterpart.

They looked at each other for another minute of placid silence; she knew there was something on his mind and right now he was contemplating whether or not to bring it up. So she waited, not pushing and not asking until eventually...

"What will he think of me when he learns about who I once really was?" She'd done a good job of sheltering him from the entire truth of his father's origins but he was slowly coming of age old enough to know the whole of it. A part of Vegeta wanted to leave that task up to his lover as well, but the bigger part of him knew that it was something Trunks should best hear from him. Perhaps... it could help him break this damned barrier between the two of them down entirely, too. Although there was the fear that the exact opposite might happen, making that wall grow even more sturdy and solid.

Slipping her hand out from underneath his own, Bulma's dainty palm gently settled against the side of his handsome face, fondly stroking her thumb over the elevation of his smooth cheek. "It doesn't matter who you once were, Vegeta. It only matters who you are now."

Perhaps not everybody would see it that way. Many believed that the past defined who you were forever, but she wasn't one of them. The past was a part of him, but he was a different person now and as far as she was concerned, undergoing such a profound change took more strength and courage than most would ever be able to bring up. Traversing the darkness towards the light was not an easy task to master.

"Our son is a very smart boy, and more mature that you might think. Just... talk to him. Then you two will see that most fears of either of you are absolutely ungrounded." It was bittersweet almost, how the only thing both father and son seemed to want was being accepted by each other without really seeing that it was long the case already. But that's how they were, the two most important men in her life, and she wouldn't want them to be any different. "You love him and he adores you, and it's not a bond easily broken. Trust me."

_Trust me._ Vegeta did. Out of everybody living and dead, Bulma might have been the only one whom he trusted - really trusted - with his heart. Her words right now didn't fail in their purpose either; she was right. He should talk to Trunks, about many a thing, and have faith that it would affect their relationship in none other way but a positive one. They were a family and he wouldn't let anything break them apart, much less the ugly monsters of his past. His luck that she would always be there to remind him of that; of family, of home. Of the fact that he now had something much more valuable to lose than his pride and heritage.

Reaching up a strong hand Vegeta's calloused digits dived into the satiny sea of Bulma's long, lovely hair, gently pulling her down to seal those sweet lips in a grateful, affectionate kiss.

The night progressed peacefully then, at least for almost everyone because Piccolo wouldn't have said that his night had been a particularly peaceful one to begin with. He was at the top of the Lookout, floating in his typical cross-legged sitting position in the air, trying to mediate and get himself to think about nothing at all. He'd been trying to do that for hours but it wasn't working, and it was frustrating the hell out of him. Normally he rarely ever had problems focusing this way, but yesterday and tonight his mind was persistent in being unwilling to grant him a moment of quietude. He concentrated on his own steady breathing, inhale-exhale, inhale-exhale, inhale-ex...

The sound of the softest thud behind him caused him to startle inwardly. Sensing for ki, Dende and Mr. Popo were still inside the palace. The Namekian opened his eyes, his feet connecting back to the ground as he stood and turned around, immediately finding himself momentarily stupefied. There, on the white, tiled floor of the Lookout lay... she. Aislynn, seemingly fast asleep, dressed in what looked like pajamas which were probably Bulma's judging by the Capsule Corp. logo printed all across the chest.

He stepped closer and went into a crouch, uncertain of what to do and for a moment simply studying her pretty face. How...? Was that the ability she'd been talking about? Involuntarily teleporting herself around without even knowing it? But why now, and why to here out of all places? He reached out a strong hand and gently touched her slender shoulder.

"Lynn."

She flinched awake, staring up at him with amber eyes that failed to recognize her surroundings for the initial semi-wakeful moment, widened in fear while her frail frame tensed up beneath his touch.

"Hey, easy. It's just me," he reassured her, watching relief and realization replace the fright on her filigree features. He retracted his hand when he felt her slinky body moving to sit up.

"I- Where am I?" She didn't even ask how she'd gotten here, because she could very well guess it. So, it was still happening. It scared and unsettled her alike, she had finally found a place where she felt remotely safe and she didn't want to disappear away from it.

"You're on the Lookout. Something like the home of this planet's god." Saying it like that sounded plenty weird, even to Piccolo's own ears. She blinked up at him in bemusement and reverence both.

"God's house...? Oh, I hope I'm not breaking any sacred laws by just... barging in like this!" She exclaimed, glancing around in trepidation as though expecting a deity's wrath to strike her down any second now. The holy temples on Jigessar were off limits even for commoners, let alone slaves and the punishments had been severe. And this was no simple temple, but the very house of this planet's God!

To her relief however, Piccolo just smiled and shook his head. "No, it's okay. We've had plenty of visitors up here throughout the years." Starting with a young kid carrying a magical pole. Good times.

They both rose to their feet and she let her curious gaze sway around. "So... this is where you live? Here, with... God?"

That, too, had quite a weird ring to it. Nevertheless it was more or less the truth so he nodded. "Sort of, yes. The former God is a part of me, so I guess I'm entitled." Sheesh. That sounded plenty strange as well, and she reacted accordingly.

"You're part God?!" Exclaiming softly, Lynn stared up at him in awed disbelief and for the first time in a couple of days, Piccolo laughed out in easy-going amusement. The situation was rather funny, and she was too cute.

"Part God, part demon and part my race's strongest warrior." He watched her confusion grow and it kept a mild grin alive in the corner of his mouth. His statement was half-a-joke, not that she would know to discern it; the only demonic part about him was his former reputation and what evil he had inherited from his father, regardless the fact that he no longer acted on it. "It's a very long story and quite the bit complicated."

She tilted her head to the side, watching him with the slightest, somewhat playful smile. "I see. You did strike me as the mysterious, hard-to-figure-out type right from the beginning."

He raised an eye ridge and chuckled softly. "Did I now. This coming from the pretty girl with uncontrollable teleportation powers." Also, wait a moment. Were they... flirting, sort of? Or was this still in the frame of normal, friendly conversation? He'd never been in the position before, much like he didn't remember ever talking to any young, attractive, cute girls so he couldn't really draw any comparisons. This was... unsettling. Or... exciting? He couldn't decide whether or not he liked this strange feeling.

Seeing the expression on his face change from amusement to something less even-tempered and hard to define, Lynn's smile slipped away swiftly as well. What was she doing, getting so familiar with him? It wasn't like her to be this frisky in company of anybody, much less a person who was all her savior, host _and_ part deity. She barely knew him and even though she would love to know more, it was rude and disrespectful, right? She ought to be more demure and unpresumptuous in his presence.

Sensing a shift in the mood, Piccolo cleared his throat. "Perhaps I should get you back to Bulma's place. She'll be worried if she finds you missing in the morning." And why did he say this? Morning was several hours away and this was a chance for them to actually talk and get to know each other a bit better, but now he was almost making it sound like her being here was a bother whereas it was actually the exact opposite. For some unexplainable, stupid reason he'd been happy to see her here so unexpectedly, and her company had managed to brighten the rather gloomy state he'd been in nearly the entire day. So why cut their time together short deliberately? What was this convoluted mess? He'd never had to deal with something like this before.

Glancing at Lynn, she looked apologetic and nervous now, entwining her hands together. It hadn't been his intention to make her uncomfortable, but he'd gone and achieved just that, hadn't he?

"You don't have to, really. If you just explain the route to me, I'll... get there myself. I have a very good sense of direction." It was her own fault that she was here, and he didn't need to concern himself with it. Even though, it was a relief to see a clement smile settle on his handsome face again.

"I doubt it's going to be of much help regardless, unless you're capable of flying, too." Which she clearly wasn't, if their first meeting at the Capsule Corp. was any indication. "Nimbus!"

The little yellow cloud shooing towards them caused her to jump and hurry out of its way as it flew past her and stopped near the tall warrior. The fluffy little fellah didn't get much exercise anymore these days, visibly excited for some action again as it hovered there next to him. Piccolo didn't really doubt the purity of the girl's heart either, reaching a hand out to her.

"Don't worry, it's very good in taking care of its riders. And I'll tag along, too, just in case. I promise we'll get you back safe and sound."

Well... truly, not an invitation she could have resisted, rather excited by the prospect of riding a cloud through the air. She might not have been so brave if he hadn't offered to accompany, but there was no doubt in her mind that he'd keep the promise he had made. Both of them. So with a flutter of her heart she slipped her small hand into his, feeling the tingle caused by the contact as he helped her get up on her fluffy means of transportation.

She felt a bit wobbly and uncertain for the few moments after she'd let go of his hand, but otherwise Nimbus turned out to be a very cushiony and comfy seat. Unfortunately it had no backrest or any kind of safeguard, so when it moved from the spot she gasped and grappled for the first thing she could grasp, which happened to be the pristine white material of the cape flowing around his shoulder.

"Sorry..." She murmured, but didn't let go. In fact, her fingers curled even further into the fabric when the tiled ground of the Lookout got replaced by the head spinning distance between it and the ground way too far beneath.

Flying in typical horizontal position next to the little cloud with his arms crossed over his chest, Piccolo glanced to his side and at her, the corner of his mouth twitching upward a bit. "Well, if it makes you feel better about this, I don't mind." He'd be lying if he said her trustful clutch on him didn't feel kind of nice.

Finally, a shy smile returned to her face again as well. "This planet is filled with so many interesting things. It's wonderful." Gazing off into the distance and the wildlife splayed out on the background of silvery moonlight, Lynn took in a deep breath of the fresh summer air. "And all this beautiful nature... Jigessar was mostly stone and water, but here... the scenery is gorgeous."

Piccolo supposed he could agree. Earth was quite a lovely little pearl, despite all the horror that sometimes went on atop its surface. "I'm glad to hear you're liking it here. Believe it or not, this planet has become the home of quite a few aliens by now."

Focusing her gaze on her interlocutor again, Aislynn remembered their earlier conversation this day. "That's right, Goku-san and Vegeta-san aren't from here, either." Saiyan, were they. She hadn't heard of that race before but then again it wasn't like anyone had been telling her anything on Jigessar. "And you are from Namek, aren't you? How come you left your home planet and settled here?" As far as she had been able to tell, Namek was a nice place to live, too, and its people seemed to be very friendly. They didn't appear to even bear a grudge against her for bringing Raz and the destruction he'd caused to their planet.

"It's a long story." Repeating what he said earlier, he watched her lower her eyes and nod lightly.

"I see." She sounded both apologetic and a bit of disappointed, or was that just his imagination? It wasn't like he was hell-bent on keeping his past a secret or anything, he just wasn't used to people taking an interest in him. So...

"But I suppose we do have some flight time to kill."

She raised her gaze again and her face seemed to have lit up in a mix of curiosity and anticipation which made him feel... weird. In a puzzlingly good kind of way. Thus he told her. About his father and Kami splitting from the same being, about King Piccolo's quest for power and his fight with Son, about his own vendetta against the young Saiyan and his ultimate defeat by same Saiyan's hand. He told her about Freeza and Namek and Nail, as well as about the Androids, Cell and his ultimate unification into a single whole again after fusing with Kami. It gave her a far better understanding of what he'd meant when he said he was part god, part demon and part Namek's strongest warrior, much like it left her in awe of this planet and its fighters once again.

She knew Freeza, she knew him well. She hadn't ever seen him but she had heard plenty, never mind that the icejin was the reason her planet and her race existed no more and she was a slave to a horrid creature like Jion. Or... had been, for most of her life. Thinking of Son Goku and his open, kindhearted nature, she had no idea the man was such a powerful being underneath. A hero and a savior indeed, and she was but one tiny life among billions throughout the galaxy that his triumph had affected, whether directly by freeing them of Freeza's tyrannical yoke or indirectly by giving them the satisfaction of killing the reason for their misery. She had never been more grateful in her entire life for her accursed, uncontrollable ability to have brought her here.

They arrived at Capsule Corp. little later, her delicate hand finally - and a bit unwillingly - releasing its grip on his fashionable cape. "Thank you." She offered in a hushed voice as he helped her off the lively little cloud again, Nimbus doing a small lap around them in parting before leaving them alone beneath all that same tree in the backyard.

"My pleasure." It truly has been.

Looking up his stately form towering above her, Lynn found herself a captive of those enigmatic midnight eyes, wanting to say something but not managing to bring another syllable over her lips. Her faithful little heart in her frail chest was beating faster, fluttering like a startled bird in a cage; what was this? She hadn't felt this way ever before. It was almost like the pulsation of fear, and yet it wasn't because the pulsation of fear was uncomfortable and terrible, but this was... thrilling and pleasant. And so very... sweetly... confusing.

"Good night, and try not to teleport yourself out to somewhere again."

Her pretty lips twitched a tiny smile, the tuneful melody of her voice barely above an airy whisper. "No promises..."

He chuckled softly, and then lifted his hand to gently brush the side of his curled up index finger along her silky cheek. "I'll see you around." Piccolo had no idea what had prompted him to do that, it had simply... happened, and there was no way to reverse it, not that he even really wanted to.

The contact was fleeting and lasted but a second, still it caused Lynn's breath to catch in her lungs and a wave of heat to swap over her lithe little figure. All she managed in response, was a small yet firm nod. Yes, she'd see him again. She wanted to, desperately. Heavens, how strongly she hoped that she would, watching him turn around and lift up into the starry night sky, taking off with a soft flutter of his impeccably white cape.


	6. Repairing the Cracks

Next one! Admittedly, I'm having quite a blast writing this story -laughs- I'm glad you guys enjoy reading it so far as well, thanks also to my guest reviewers, unfortunately fanficnet doesn't let me reply to guest reviews but I wanted you to know that I appreciate the support!

I enjoy taking a slower pace with this, switching between the different couples and I'm rather glad I have such a large roster of pairs to pick from because essentially, I adore all the couples in the series. And I'm very excited about my self-created one, because I totally agree with most of you, Piccolo doesn't get nearly enough love. It's even more entertaining because neither he nor Lynn seem to have a concept of love and relationships which is very fun to work with. I do believe me and my Muses have most of the crucial kinks worked out, so it should be interesting to gradually put it all in writing.

As for this chapter, I initially intended to put some Gohan and Videl in as well, but as I progressed it became apparent that Goku and Chichi did not want to share the screen time, thus the other couple will have to wait for the next one XD

All this said, have fun reading, here goes:

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

**Repairing the Cracks**

"Well, I tucked Goten in; little guy was all worn-out after our little fishing trip today. It had certainly been a blast." Saying that with a laugh to accompany the statement, Goku entered the marital sleeping chamber, watching Chichi rummage with what looked like a basket upon the commode in the room.

"That's good. I'm happy the two of you spent such a wonderful day together." Clapping the top of said basket shut, Chichi turned around with a soft smile. "I think he really needed that." He'd been chirping about it non-stop the entire breakfast today before taking off to Capsule Corp with his father and brother, and he couldn't wait to get out the door once they'd returned back home for the few things Chichi had packed for their trip by that time.

Goku had had a small window of opportunity to briefly tell her what they'd learnt about the mystery girl who apparently went by the name of Aislynn, and then got dragged out the door by his youngest. It hadn't really surprised her to see Trunks tagging along as well, it was nice to see her husband bonding so quickly with the boys. Then again, it was Goku. He had a true gift when it came to bonding with other living things, be they human, alien, animal or even his enemies.

"Gohan's still not home from his date, but I'm sure he'll let himself in once he's back." She informed then. It was still quite early with the pointers showing a little past eight o'clock, but tomorrow was Sunday and Gohan was old enough to no longer require any curfews anyway.

The earth-raised Saiyan chuckled mildly in response, the idea of Gohan dating was... interesting. He'd always been a rather shy kid, he could imagine even more so around girls. Goku wondered who the young minx was that had managed to catch his introverted son's attention so. He hadn't had the time to catch up with his firstborn yet, but he thought he ought to do it soon. There were so many people he needed to reconnect with, sometimes it was a little... overwhelming.

"I hope I'll get to meet that young lady sometime. Videl, was is? I'm really curious about her." He remarked off-handedly, walking over to the commode and casting an interested look at the basket. "What's that? You're planning on going somewhere?"

With her husband looking over to her with an adorably inquisitive expression like only he could make it, caused Chichi's smile to widen a bit at the image. "Well..." She grew a little nervous then, absentmindedly brushing a hand over the skirt of her dress.

It was in that moment that Goku actually noticed her clothing not being her usual, traditional Chinese-style kind of garb, but a rather cute, dark-blue summer dress in pair with equally cute flats on her small feet. Her hair was loose, framing her pretty features and flowing down her shoulders and back, which always made her look younger and perhaps the somewhat sweetly girlish excitement was part of it, too. Was he missing something...?

"I was hoping... that I could get a moment of your time today as well. If you're not too tired, that is. I mean... it can wait, too. It's not like-" She feel silent as he stepped closer to her and took her by the shoulders, her faithful little heart thumping a quickened pace within her chest.

"I'm not tired at all. Takes a little bit more than two energetic Saiyan boys to wear me out." There was something very subtly suggestive to that sentence and it only caused the heat to creep into her cheeks. She found it amazing sometimes, how fast he could switch between sweet innocence and appealing, if not flirtatious, earnestness.

"I just... thought it's a nice night to be outside. Maybe go to that little lake you once showed me? I packed a few blankets and- well." Swimsuits and towels and- Gods what was she doing?

Well, for a simple fact all that she had really wanted to do was something nice and maybe romantic in order to spend a bit of time with him, to talk. They had so much to catch up on. Yesterday night had been the first night in seven years where they'd slept together in a bed again but she had not dared touch him, or even cuddle up to him despite the fact that she had very much wanted to and despite the kiss they'd shared in front of the closet. She had just lain there and listened to his breath, feeling his presence there in the room with her and trying to convince herself that it wasn't just a dream.

"Sounds good to me," Goku agreed softly, feeling a little relieved. Maybe this would be his chance to try and melt away the distance that he still felt lingering between them.

That one kiss had remained the only personal touch they'd shared, and it wasn't like he hadn't wanted to pull her up into his arms once they'd lain down in bed. It was just that he hadn't know if he should, or could, given how she'd reacted before and even though she'd returned his kiss with desperate fervor, he hadn't known if it had really meant that they could go back to normal just like that. Seven years was a long time, a gap of missed togetherness filled neither quickly nor easily. But he'd be damned if he didn't try, all the more so since she was obviously willing and wanting to as well. He could fix this. All of it. Between himself and her, himself and his sons, himself and his friends. He owed all of them that much.

Fetching the basket and giving it to her he caught her by waist and knees little later, lifting her up onto his arms to the lovely sound of her startled gasp. "Let's go, then."

Holding on to the basket with one hand, Chichi weaved her other arm around his fair neck and nodded. It's been so long since she'd last felt this way, safe and weightless in his strong hold and giddy inside like a young girl on her first date. Lightly leaning her head against his sturdy shoulder, she closed her eyes and sighed in artless contentment, carried out of the house where he lifted off into the air. The feeling of flying echoed in a small, thrilled sensation within her, only intensified by the spike of his ki as he lighted it and cloaked her in that wonderfully familiar blanket of his energy to keep the chill of the breeze from their placidly even-paced forward movement from bothering her filigree figure. He was in no hurry and so wasn't she, just enjoying that simple moment, so it took them ten, fifteen minutes to arrive at the lovely little lake a few miles away from their home, located in a beautiful, secluded spot of untouched nature deep within the forest.

Night, water and moonlight could be an indescribably beautiful composition. The small lake revealed itself like a lovingly hidden secret; mother nature's masterpiece painted with all the love that a true artist could ever put into one of their heartfelt creations. The trees surrounding the tiny, earthly garden Eden were nothing more than colossal shadows, the rustling of their mighty, richly covered tops a soft whisper in the mild gusts of wind which also brought small, gentle ripples to the water's surface. Same surface was like a mirror, reflecting the silvery light that streamed from above in a bright gaze of the almost full moon. The firmament was clear and dotted with brilliant stars - bigger and smaller ones, some more and others less bright in their perpetual glow. The air was fresh and pleasant, suffused with the cobalt blue of the night and vibrating clemently with small, innate noises. The chirrup of insects, the soft rummaging about of small animals, the sway of the grass whenever the wind would caringly caress it with its invisible hand.

It was a gorgeous scenery wrapped up in a serene, nigh magical atmosphere. Truly, she didn't think there could be anything more romantic than this.

"I almost forgot what a majestic spot this was." Goku spoke quietly as he touched down to the ground and carefully lowered his wife back onto her delicate feet. It used to be one of his favorite places to visit and he knew Chichi loved it here, too.

He helped her spread out a blanket over the natural downy mattress of thickly growing grass and she put the basket aside before sitting down a little sideways with her legs elegantly curled up to the side beneath her. Goku eased down next to her, stretching one long leg out and keeping the sole of the other on the ground, placing one arm over the bent knee while stemming the other hand to the blanket-covered earth a bit behind him, leaning back onto it lightly. For a long moment of docile silence, the two of them were simply gazing out onto the reflective watery surface and the play of moonlight upon it, taking in the magnificent vision before them.

"Did you... think about us? Over there in Otherworld?" Chichi posed a quiet question after a few wordless minutes. She didn't know why exactly she had asked precisely this one... it was just one of many, but perhaps one of the more pressing ones.

Goku's features twitched, forming a faint expression of sorrowful regret. "I did, but... perhaps not often, or properly enough. Up there... I don't know. Time is... different. It feels much shorter, maybe because you lose track of it. After all, how is eternity supposed to feel like, time-wise? Though I suppose... that sounds like I'm making excuses." And he didn't want to make excuses. He knew the greater part of the blame in this was on him, but he could at least try to do his best to explain. To help her understand something he wasn't sure he'd yet managed to completely understand himself.

"Sometimes I wanted to check on you, you know? To see how you were doing down here, but King Kai would always warn me not to. He'd say it would only make it unnecessary hard on me, being dead and being unable to be down there with you guys. Maybe have to see you struggling with hard times, or hurting, or despairing without being able to be there to offer comfort, or try to make it better. I think a part of me was also... scared. To see the consequences of my death, its aftermaths and what effect it had on those I left behind... So I listened to him. I stayed away and focused on my training."

Once he'd started, it seemed to be easier to speak. The beginning was always the hardest, so they said. And whoever _they_ had been, they were certainly right. "I submerged myself in it, let it consume me. Sparring with other fighters, getting stronger; it helped me not to think about you, about Gohan, about my friends. Telling myself you all would be just fine without me. Maybe even... better off." His voice dropped in volume to an almost whisper with the last sentence, causing Chichi to turn her head and look at him with slightly widened eyes, perplexed. What was it he was saying...?

"Better off...? Goku... what do you mean by that?" How could any of them have been better off without him? Why would he think that? He was loved and adored by all, although she had never really bothered to stop and think about that he might have perceived it differently. It was true in essence that most of the time, the loudest clamor for Goku came when times were dire and the world needed a savior. But how well did any of them actually know him? How did it really look like in his heart?

"I..." He sighed, moving to sit up cross-legged now, and raked his fingers through his hair. "Chi, I seem to... invite trouble to Earth. First Radditz, then Vegeta and Nappa, then Freeza... Red Ribbon's vengeance and the Androids, Cell... All of them trace back to me in some way or the other."

He'd been sent here to destroy the planet in the first place. Radditz had come here because of him; he'd killed his own brother and even though it had been a necessity, having had time to think about it... he couldn't say that fratricide felt good. Killing Radditz had invited an even greater threat to Earth and defeating Vegeta and Nappa had only led to Freeza and more death as well as the destruction of an entire planet and race. Granted, the effect had been negated by the Dragonballs, but the misery, the suffering, the pain beforehand... the memories of that couldn't be erased by resurrection and reconstruction. Dr. Gero had been after him as well, out of revenge and bitterness, and even though one good thing had come of that mess in form of Eighteen and Krillin's happiness, how much more agony and destruction had preceded it?

"Plus... I've been going against the natural order times and again. Dying and being revived, it's... not right? Like I'm privileged or something, like death is inconsequential for me. I fear I might eventually upset that order enough to bring even more trouble down on us. There are gods and powers out there that nobody should be messing around with. Death is one of them. I wanted to make it right... I thought: I died so I should stay dead... At least, try to. It seemed right at that time. I never meant to leave you alone like that, I just..."

He had tried to do what had seemed like the right thing to do. Perhaps it had been more of a self-punishment than anybody would ever know, too. He didn't know if he was making much sense, or if she could comprehend that which was hard to comprehend even for his own heart and mind. It was even more difficult to try and put it into words... so he fell silent, not knowing if saying anything more would make it clearer or only more confusing.

Reaching out a comforting hand, Chichi gently touched it to her husband's stout upper arm. "It's okay, love... I understand. I think." Sort of, she did. It was in this man's nature to be righteous and yet modest, trying to do right by everyone, especially the world itself. And she? She had never really wavered from the decision she had made years and years ago; to stand by his side no matter what.

"I've never resented you for your choice. I wasn't happy with it, but I told myself... you had your reasons." She had no intentions to guilt-trip him over the decision he'd made, quite the contrary, she wanted him to know she didn't blame him. "Sure, sometimes it was hard. I was missing you, Gohan was. Goten, too, even though he didn't even know you. And he looked so much like you... It had only been making things harder."

She could understand, to a certain extent. She had tried her best to accept it and keep moving forward, and she had had her own incentives to do that, of which she told him in a soft, distant voice right then. "I would reason with myself - every day there are wives who lose their husbands, children who lose their parents... with no power to just... cheat death and wish their loved ones back. How are we any better? Why should we be privileged enough to never lose our loved ones because we can make use of Shenlong? It's not fair to others." She could see what he'd meant by upsetting the natural order. How many times could they get away with bending the rules before somebody would try to put a stop to it?

"But in the end... it's you who deserves that choice, not us, you know? It's you who saves the world, the universe, all those innocent lives. You earn these chances to live again, and whether you take those chances or leave them... that is up to you as well. That is _your_ choice, _your_ privilege." She folded her hands in her lap and stared at her entwined fingers for a brief moment. The next words... were not easy to speak.

"How many more times can we force you to become a sacrifice for our sakes? You must get tired, too, I'd tell myself. Tired to always have to stand a shield, all the pain that it brings, physical and mental alike... I can't blame you for wanting to rest and pass the duty on to somebody else." He did deserve that rest. She had often tried to convince herself that he was better off in the Otherworld, safer, maybe even happier. He had taken the blow for the sake of others so many times...

Looking up again, she moved from sitting up to standing on her knees, reaching out and taking his sad, handsome face into her hands, gently urging him to turn it to her and look at her. "But Goku, it's not your fault... None of it ever was. You're not a bad luck charm, you don't invite trouble. Bad things will continue to happen, with or without you around." She was insistent as she said it, because that burden was not a fair one for him to bear.

Lowering her own head then, she shook it lightly in some sort of heartache. "Yet still... yet still... I can never deny how happy I am to have you back." Her inflection was all but a whisper now, each syllable seemed leaden with emotion and it felt just as heavy to convert those thoughts to sounds. "I don't care if it's selfish or unfair, or if it makes me look like an entitled bitch... I'm so happy you've returned to me, I don't care at what price it might come. I wouldn't want it any other way." She didn't notice when the delicate tremor had settled in her lithe little body, causing it to quiver slightly, mimicking the way her emotions were quavering inside her chest they constricted so. "I'm... I..."

His warm, large hands curled around her slender wrists, squeezing gently, feeling her small palms tremble against his cheeks. "Chi... Don't cry. Please..."

She shook her head again, feverishly this time, sending some of the salty droplets that had so suddenly started pearling out of her eyes flying away. She needed to say this... She needed him to know, even if it hurt to say it. Even if it might hurt him to hear it. He had to know. "I love you, Goku. These seven years had been the hardest of my life... Waking up without you every day, watching our boys grow up without a father... I've hurt, I've despaired, I've cried so much... I missed you, not a day would go by where I wouldn't think of you. Every day I would hope, pray, plead inside my heart that maybe today, maybe today... you would return. It has worn me so thin... Now you're here, you're back, and I'm so afraid... So afraid to lose you again because I know I won't be able to do this all over another time... living without you, being without you... I won't withstand the pain another time. I need you... I don't want to be without you again..."

Her sobs broke loose, uncontrolled and intense, robbing her of the ability to speak any more. Like a dam that had burst free, everything was flowing out with her tears; the years of pain and solitude and hardship, the years of unspent love and desperate longing. She felt him giving her a soft but urging tug and offered no resistance, pulled into his lap and finding the front of his gi to claw her fingers into, perceiving his safeguarding arms wrap themselves around her and press her to his chest, close and tight. She cried it all out while he held her wordlessly, touching his lips to the crown of her silky fringes and screwing his eyes shut, suffering through her breakdown which he knew he was responsible for. He had always hated to see her cry, feeling so powerless despite all the physical might that he possessed. This was nothing that could be fixed with brute strength; he could save the world from the tyranny of a villain yet he couldn't save his wife from the oppression of her woes. It hurt.

"I'm so sorry, Chi..." He uttered against raven black velvet, trying not to crush her within his firm embrace. One of her little hands unfurled, clenched into a small fist that impacted against his broad, sturdy chest in a hit that he would scarcely even register.

"Don't you ever dare do that again... Leaving me, leaving our children... How could you ever think we would be better off without you?! How could you just go and die like that?!" Now hammering unrestrainedly at the thickness of buff muscles beneath the layer of tough skin, her tearful fit of helpless, wrathless anger might have been hurting her more than it could ever hurt him, physically at least. So he caught her delicate fist within the palm of his own hand, simply keeping it pressed against his chest with little to no effort despite her tries to break it free from his capture again.

"You're such an idiot...! Such an idiot... You're..." The fight evaporated out of her as quickly as it'd come, her body abruptly losing all tension as she lifted her tear-streaked countenance up to stare at him through the veil of incessantly streaming, brilliant droplets of salty, liquid pain and plea.

"Don't ever do it again... Promise me you won't leave me anymore... Promise me, Goku, please..." She couldn't... she wouldn't lose him again. "Please don't leave me alone again, or I swear I'll follow you to the Otherworld myself next time..." Breathless with tears and clinging to him with every ounce of her strength the only thought pounding ferociously in her head was how she could not let him go again.

Not that Goku was planning on going anywhere, just leaning in and catching her lips in a strong, soothing kiss that muffled her sobs and whimpers, his hold around her shaking figure gentle and unyielding like the words he whispered to her upon parting away again, her distorted breaths sharp and gasping through the emotional fit that had made such a mess of her.

"I promise, Chi... I promise."

Was it really a promise he could keep? He didn't know, but it didn't change the truth of the feelings behind it either way. It was not for the surety of the promise itself that people made them for, it was the will behind it, the resolve to try and keep it. He didn't know what the future might bring, what might happen tomorrow, in a week, in a month, but he would do his best to stay true to his word, stay alive and by his family's side for as long as it was at all possible. If it could ease her suffering, he would promise it a hundred times over; if only it could dry the tears in those pretty eyes and expel the fear from that precious heart.

It took Chichi a fair few minutes to calm down, absolutely refusing to let go of her husband as her distorted emotions slowly settled to peace in his protective grasp. She felt so much lighter now, everything that she had been bottling up inside her for over half a dozen years finally released and dispersed out into the open. Only now did she really realize how heavily it had been weighing on her, and how curative it had been to hear him reassure her, to have him listening, to have him hold her, just to _have _him. Here, with her.

Eventually her lips sought out his full pair once again and she pulled him into another ardent lock of mouths, kissing him deeply and desperately in incessant need to feel him ever closer. Her jittery exhale escaped through her petite nose, feeling him respond with distinct ardor that sent her head spinning, surrendering to the overwhelming sensation and willingly parting her velvet lips for an eager tongue to slip past them, releasing a soft moan at the contact. Her heart went fluttering wildly in her chest due to the fluent and swift shift in position, his strong hands supporting her by back and nape of her neck as he twisted his torso to carefully lay her out against the blanket, her bendy flipside connecting to the ground with him hovering above her now.

Her arms weaved around his neck, tugging him down all the more in her desire for more contact, for his touch, the yearning to feel that strong body pressed to hers insanely tightly. Soft, graceful moans and whispers were escaping her in between the passionate interaction of their mouths which soon left her lips glossy and kiss-swollen, completely engrossed in that powerful presence she had so madly missed and dissolving in it oh so easily. Warmth, safety, love; all returning to sublimely engulf her heart exhausted by years of loneliness and longing. The balled up emotions overfilling her chest made it even more difficult to breathe and some subconscious instinct kicked in at last, forcing her to jerk her head up and away from their blissful kissing, lungs greedy in their need for oxygen, her frail chest falling and rising rapidly with shallow panting.

Robbed off those sweet lips, Goku's own quickly found another aim for their caresses, dotting a path along her cheek dusted with a lovely pink hue towards her finely curved neck, suckling and nibbling at the most sensitive spots. Chichi's shapely body reacted with terrific tingling of nerves, a prickling sensation rising from the pit of her stomach and scattering warm shivers throughout her supple figure, drawing more sweet, tuneful sounds from her. Her heart was racing, long fingers curling into sturdy shoulders in a useless attempt to get a grip on the wonderful feelings which she craved more of all the same.

She chanted her beloved husband's name under her distorted breath, the pearly teeth carefully biting down on the receptive spot connecting her neck and shoulder getting her body to tremble in pleasure. He came back up again and she managed to open her eyes a small crack to find that handsome face mere inches away from her own, taking a moment to amorously stare up into the dark depths of those honest onyx eyes telling her everything she had ever desired to hear, his head diving down to capture her pliable lips in another sensual kiss.

Her small hands finally used their freedom of motion to reacquaint themselves with his beautiful body, one palm smoothing down the robust curvature of that reliable shoulder while the other slipped towards the nape of his neck, aiming higher to bury her dainty digits in rich, raven strands. How she had missed the feel of them... of him.

Goku's hands had meanwhile pushed under the skirt of her cute little dress, stroking up the length of her supple thighs and gathering the fabric up in folds against his wrists. She gasped when he caressed along her slender sides and higher up to brush past her breasts, his body yielding a bit of space for her to lift up just enough to allow him to get rid of her dress entirely. He straightened out on his knees stemmed either side of her then, reaching for the back of his neckline to pull his gi top and his shirt off over his head in one smooth motion, tossing them aside with a flick of his wrist. Her deft hands were helpful in the act of undressing, easily undoing the blue belt around his waist, never missing the chance to let her gaze capture the picture of his stalwart upper body and admire its chiseled perfection.

Getting rid of the remainder of their clothing took but a minute, and by the end of it the Saiyan warrior found himself sitting back on his heels with his lovely wife straddling his lap, thrilling both of them with the heated touch of skin to skin. His arms circled her thin waist, the perfect curves of it appearing to be made for the sole purpose of being embraced. She inched ever closer, laying her arms atop his shoulders and inclining her head to graze his nose with hers as her invitingly opened, silky lips sought his own. He dived his tongue into her honeyed mouth, re-claiming the taste he already knew but couldn't get enough of.

Tugging her closer pushed their lower bodies together, making her moan into their heady kiss, instinctively rocking against him and thereby slicking his already rigid length in the warm moisture that was a clear sign of her own arousal. One of her delicate hands slithered downwards along the muscular artwork of his chest, enticing a husky groan from him as her nimble digits curled around his aching member, feeling it throb lightly in her careful grasp as she lifted up the smallest bit to guide it towards her opening. His hands slid down to her slim hips to support her as she started moving down gradually and carefully, whimpering in sweet distress with the thick head of his erection pushing past the ring of muscles that welcomed him into her. He sucked the air in through his teeth gritted in same sweet torment, air catching in the robust cage of his ribs and fading out the world around them, feeling the wet heat of her sheathing him bit by bit in a wonderfully maddening sensation.

There was a nearly bruising collision of warm lips, all air gathered in a swelled knot amidst her chest and pushing out almost painfully with the prolonged moan lost in the connection of their mouths once he was concealed within her entirely. Chichi stilled completely and dropped her head down onto his shoulder, clutching at him and breathing in a quick, irregular pace that only made the feel of him inside her all the more distinct; the long-missed perception was mind breaking. Nothing could be as amazing as feeling something so long missed returning again and blatantly she took possession of what was hers, pressed up so incredibly close and personal against his heated body.

Goku granted his lovely wife what time she might have needed to adjust, her hot tightness around him sweetly tormenting for him just as much. Her hair tickled in a velvety sensation along his skin in its ebony cascade when he sensed her head turning, her fringes brushing against his cheek and eliciting him to look her way. Her fawn eyes and the sensual, dazzled expression in them were gorgeous, ablaze with craving, gentle lust and unblemished traces of unconditional love, enchanting him for a small moment in time. She had to be the most beautiful woman in the world. And she was his.

Their lips touched yet another time, basking in the delight of mental and physical reunion when her slinky form lifted itself up and descended back down, starting an unhurried pace that worked her charming body slowly and gracefully atop his own, her hands holding on tightly to his stout shoulders, lightly pressing short, neatly made nails into them, her fingertips tensing and flexing against his skin every time she slid down onto his hard length.

Her tender moans, gasps and whimpers and her ragged panting were an exquisite melody to underline the burn of their bliss, driving him crazy as much as the rhythmical rise and fall of her hips beneath his warm palms still resting atop them. He could perceive her subtle shifting then and again, until she seemed to have found that one perfect angle which caused her to tense all over abruptly, freezing for a fraction of a second. Goku's eyes snapped open, coming back from the heaven she was riding him into just in time to watch her throw her head back and arch her bendy spine in catlike elegance, clawing at his shoulders as an unrestrained outcry of sheer rapture tore out of her. It ricocheted inside his own body from skin to bode, from nerve to flesh, blazing him up.

Trembling intensely for a second, Chichi desperately caught her breath, elapsing with the tremendous anticipation of knowing what awaited her when she would repeat the action and allow him to reach all the way into her to strike at that delicious bundle of nerves buried deep within her. And repeat it she did, rolling her hips and having the salacious sensation hit her again and again and again, drowning his smooth, low groans in the erotic song of her euphonic moans and cries. It filled his head and stole his breath and mind away, barely keeping his eyes open to watch her flexible body, every perfect curvature of it as it worked so magnificently sensually atop him and feeling his nerve tracts being burned and cremated, lost in her and the pleasure she gave him, all auditory, visually and sensatory. She was hot, literally and figuratively, burning up right here in his lap and he did nothing but raise the heat even further.

His thoughtful left hand slithered along her sweat-dewed back to act as a backrest she leaned readily against, while the rightsided twin appendage remained on her hip to support her in her movements since the sweetly tormenting sensations were draining her strength away quickly up to the point where Chichi didn't know if she was still moving herself or if it was his power that would help lift her up times and again. She cared little about it either way, shivering upon feeling his lips touch to her generously exposed neck and leave a moist path down its curvature, over her collarbone and the generous curve of her supple breast until that devious mouth captured a perky nipple to fondle in company with him meeting her next downward motion with an upward thrust of his firm hips, pushing her inimitable voice out of her in a wild, enraptured cry of his name.

Those velvet lips continued to spread deceptively soothing kisses over her ample bosom, his complementary thrusts gaining speed, strength and depth to them, determined to drive his beautiful wife crazy. And Gods was he succeeding, so much Chichi didn't know up from down anymore. She might have lost her mind for the moments of tremendous sensations crashing hard and fast against her senses and she could not care less. He was all that mattered. Always. Forever.

_Don't leave me. _

_Never leave me. _

_I love you._

She didn't know whether she was thinking, feeling or really chanting what swirled around in her dizzy consciousness but she heard herself clearly as her call for him rolled off her tongue in a blissful outcry one more time when she let her lithe little body slam down onto his own, letting him penetrate her deeply and tilt her over the peak into the beatific freefall of salvation. She came undone, breathlessly clamping up all around him inside and out, the spasms of her inner walls caging and kneading his erection and tugging him down with her into the abyss of furious, overwhelming euphoria through the last couple of his sharp, dynamic thrusts. The syllables of her dear name mixed in with the deep, huskily growled groan that escaped him, spilling his essence inside her.

She whimpered at the feel of being filled out with thick warmth flowing into the orgasmic shudders of her body which collapsed helplessly against his own seconds later, quivering palpably through the resonance and lingering aftershocks of undergone bliss. It felt like having tasted a pieced of heaven and the flavor was a lifelong, addictive drug, and if he was her drug, Chichi wholeheartedly welcomed being and addict. Goku's strong arms secured her tightly in their grasp, feeling the cool sensation of her long hair flowing over his skin where her head rested and the jumpy staccato of her distorted breathing brushing over the curve of his neck where her glowing face was tucked away on.

Minutes crept by with them just comfortably resting wrapped up in each other's presence, catching their breath and calming their raging hearts, ignorant of the outside world for these brilliant moments of simple, most needed togetherness and the affection that coursed throughout them, requiring no words to be conveyed.

"I had actually hoped to go for a dip in the lake..." She eventually whispered with a carefree smile, too tired to move even an inch, especially if it meant abandoning the little haven of her lover's befogging scent and tender warmth.

Goku chuckled softly, touching a fond kiss to her sweaty temple. "Who said we can't do it still?"

His sweet wife released a tiny laugh to that. "I'm sorry, hon, but I think you broke me. I don't feel like moving for the next ten years." Her legs were jelly and everything within her was still quivering, causing her to feel like a plush doll with no bone or muscle whatsoever, or any will of her own.

Moving to stand up with relative ease, Goku listened to her mewl cutely at the loss of their intimate connection, starting off towards the water with her precious featherweight safely in his arms a moment later. "Well, lucky for you, your alien husband is quite inexhaustible." Which was a bit of a lie, he did feel quite spent himself. The day had been rather eventful, but his superior Saiyan stamina could handle a quick dip and a flight back home just fine.

Chichi only giggled in response; a sleepy and adorable sound he hadn't heard in a long while. Turned out there had been need neither for the swimsuits nor the towels she had so thoughtfully packed, the water graciously warm and refreshing on her heated skin when he walked into it, washing them clean from the evidence of their amorous adventure.

The trustful blanket of his ki protected her from any chill on the trip back home, slowly drying both of them while at it, too. Goku was rather uncomplicated in such matters, he had never set her down again and flew them home naked as they were, leaving the clothes and blankets back at the lake. He could fetch them sometime tomorrow, it wasn't like there was anybody else living around here for miles on end. She was fast asleep by the time he reached their house, and judging by the absence of his ki Gohan still wasn't home. It didn't worry him too much though; the boy could take care of himself and obviously, his date was going well.

Once inside their bedroom, he lay his wife down into the cushions and slipped into a pair of boxers, leaving her with a loving kiss to the forehead and briefly traversing their house towards Goten's room to steal a peak inside. The boy was cuddled up in his covers, breathing steadily and soundly which brought a clement smile to his father's lips. Soon enough Son Goku was in bed as well, his beautiful spouse snuggled up close to him beneath the warmth of the blanket. Many of the cracks in the foundation of their relationship got repaired tonight and he was artlessly happy about it.

Closing his eyes he exhaled slow and deep like a man at peace, feeling the drowsiness settle in and cloud his consciousness with the pleasant approach of sleep. Tonight, the world was nothing short of being perfect.


	7. Heartbeat

On we go! As promised we get to see some Gohan/Videl in this one, I quite enjoyed writing those two ^-^ I also had a lot of fun writing the middle to ending bit of the chapter; it felt rather... fulfilling in a way and things are slowly coming together as far as the relationships between different characters are concerned.

I know there's not a whole lot of action going on right now but no worries, we'll be getting to that eventually as well -laughs- This chapter circles more around the Son-household, too, whereas the next will be centered around the happenings at Capsule Corp. So you can look forward to that =)

And now, off goes:

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

**Heartbeat**

Standing in front of the cinema with two tickets in hand, he was feeling nervous. He hadn't been lying when he had told his dad that this was 'sort of a date' because honesty, Gohan wasn't sure if it was, because this entire scenario had come about rather unexpectedly two days ago.

_"This... is... hard..." Panting and mindful not to flounce her arms too much just like he'd instructed her, Videl was trying to stay up in the air the few centimeters off the ground that she had managed to lift herself. _

_"You're doing great. We have been practicing for only a week, and you've already gotten this good." He encouraged her with a smile. "If you keep this up, you won't need me to help you for much longer." _

_For that, he got a heated glare in response. "Do you mean I'm a bother? You don't have to teach me if you don't want to, you know!" _

_Raising his hands up in defense, he swiftly shook his head. "No, no, that's not what I meant! I was saying that you're like a natural at this-" Not to mention that she practically did force him into this by threatening to reveal his Saiyaman identity to everyone should he not agree. But he kept that comment to himself, also because he really didn't mind giving her lessons. She was fiery and had a temper alright, but it was actually part of why he enjoyed her company. Very much so. _

_"Hmpf! You don't have to sweet-talk me, either." He couldn't tell if the color on her cheeks was a blush of embarrassment or anger. "I'm perfectly cap- Whoooaaa!" Being all huffy she began to get out of balance, flailing in the air, and with concentration lost a fall was certain to happen in the next few seconds. _

_Videl shrieked and clenched her eyes shut, even though the impact of her perky butt on the hard ground never happened. He was next to her in a blink, weaving a securing arm around her slim waist and her hands grappled for his shoulders on instinct, clinging to him while her long lashes fluttered apart again to find herself so very close to him, the pair of them floating a couple inches in the air. She looked up at him and he looked down at her, so close their noses almost touched and suddenly two young hearts went leaping forward. _

_"Idiot! Put me down this instant!" She snapped and he hurried to set her back down onto her little feet, scratching at the back of his head with an apologetic expression on his handsome features. _

_"I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to fall." He tried to warrant his action, albeit he'd be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed the feel of her lissome frame pressed up against him. _

_She huffed and stemmed her hands into her hips, turning her head away and glaring off into the distance. "Whatever." _

_Silence descended around them and Gohan didn't really know whether or not she was legitimately angry with him now. He was just about to ask her if she maybe wanted to go home, but her question preceded his own._

_"Ne. Would you want to go to the cinema tomorrow?"_

_Genuinely having not expected anything like that, the only thing he managed to produce in response was a very intelligent "Huh?" _

_Videl veered around to face him, frowning and blushing in that indefinable manner again. "You don't have to! If you don't want to go, you can just say no!" _

_Now she seemed irritated again, and also sorta cute. Man, he just couldn't figure this girl out, hurrying to shake his head. "No, it's okay. I mean, I want to. Go to the cinema with you. Tomorrow. What- What movie do you want to see?" Were they actually going to go on a date...?_

_She veered around on her heels, shrugging. "I- I don't know. Just... pick one. So long as it's nothing mushy, alright! I'm not into these so-called chick-flicks."_

_He laughed out. "I wouldn't have assumed that you were, no." That successfully got her to spin around and glare at him yet again. _

_"What does that mean, huh?! You believe me to be some kind of tomboy or something?!" _

_The expression on her face was too adorable and so was her fitful exclamation, only causing him to laugh harder and her to turn redder, clutching her delicate hands into no less delicate fists at her sides._

_"Gohaaaaan!" _

Videl was a rather exceptional girl as far as he was concerned. Despite her father being quite the celebrity, she was very down-to-earth and her explosive temper was just too cute at times. She was remarkably strong for a normal human being, and not to mention very, very pretty. He could compliment her will and her hardheaded nature, too, she was dogged and stubborn and didn't give up once she had set a goal for herself. He found that appealing. He found her appealing... The longer he knew her, the more so.

Thus here he stood now, in front of the cinema with two tickets to a martial arts comedy in his hand. He thought that it certainly should be something she would enjoy watching. It had to be. Gods he hoped it would be. He also hoped he had dressed decently for the occasion, clad in a pair of black jeans and a white button-up shirt with a pressed collar underneath a classy, dark-blue jacket, the outfit completed by a pair of neatly polished shoes. He didn't know if bringing flowers would have been too tacky, so he had decided against it. He didn't even know if this was really a date. And he was way too early. And way too excited.

They hadn't really done anything else together outside of school aside of him giving her flight lessons, so her offer of seeing a movie together had come as a pleasant surprise because given her occasional behavior, he wasn't sure if she liked him the way he seemed to have come to like her. But now everything looked different and all he could hope for is that he wouldn't mess this up in some way or another. He had no real experience with girls and relationships but with her, he would very much want a try.

"Hey! I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long!"

The young demi-Saiyan turned to the sound of a familiar voice, watching Videl wave her hand at him as she approached him. Halting in front of him, she smiled and he responded with the same gesture in kind.

"Hi! No, not at all." Taking in her appearance, it at least calmed his worry in regard to his get-up.

He certainly wasn't the only one who'd put an effort into looking good tonight; her shapely figure was wrapped up in a knee-long, white dress with a black, flowery pattern, a thin, silvery belt accentuating her slim waist and complementing the equally silvery high-heels on her delicate feet as well as the sparkle of the silvery necklace and the long, flowery shaped earrings which twinkled coyly from in between her long, black hair that were falling loosely down her slender shoulders. The attire didn't come off as too fancy, easy and natural on the eye, and she looked absolutely gorgeous in it.

"You look beautiful." He thus offered in soft compliment, watching a faint rosy hue come to dust her cheeks.

"Uhm... thanks. You look very handsome today, too." A genuine reply, and now both of them were blushing so she hurried to put the focus on something else, casting a curious glance at the tickets in his hands.

"What movie did you pick?"

He passed one ticket to her for inspection, soon receiving her approval together with a happy grin: "Excellent choice!"

Well. The start seemed to have been a successful one so far. Videl really did enjoy the movie, it was right up her alley and they had a great time dropping occasion comments on the action on the big screen, laughing a lot and gradually relaxing in each other's company with the initial anxiety disappearing into a mutual good mood. Of course she liked Gohan, what was there not to like about him? He was exceptionally smart, amazingly strong, very attractive and incredibly kind-hearted, he had a good sense of humor, was a gentleman and could be awfully cute on occasion; what more could a girl want? She just wasn't entirely sure yet if the feeling was mutual, after all she did kinda blackmail him into those flight lessons, but since he had agreed to go out with her, then he must have felt some sparks between them, too, right?

She kept remembering back on two days ago as well; the feel of his arms around her, pressing her safely against him and their faces so close... she had wanted to kiss him right then, which was why she had reacted the way she had, yelling at him to let go even though - or probably precisely because - she had wanted the exact opposite to happen.

The movie ended what seemed like way too quickly, the two of them stepping back out into the freshness of the summer evening outside. The breeze was warm and nice, their spirits were high, and neither of them really felt like ending their day together here.

"I know a nice little cafe not far from here. Wanna go?" She therefore asked casually and yet in subtle hope.

"Sure. Lead the way, I'll treat you to whatever you like." He watched a frown start to settle on her refined features and hurried to add: "If I may!"

Yet the creases on her smooth forehead smoothed out as quickly as they appeared, instead she gave off a lovely little laugh. "Yes, you may." And then she stepped to him and weaved her arms around his own with her heart striking a quick, loud beat out of rhythm.

Whatever last qualms Gohan might have had, they vaporized right then. This most definitely was a date and the attraction was most definitely mutual. It felt neither awkward nor strange, after the initial moment of small emotional turmoil coming with the unexpected, pleasant contact, walking together like this turned out to be a very wonderful experience. There was something comforting and artlessly satisfying in the simple nature of it, as well as it brought with it a sort of relief in knowing that one's feelings of romantic interest were being returned.

The cafe that she had picked turned out to be a small, cozy place with a calm, benign atmosphere, their choice being a table for two near one of the large windows with a pretty view onto the nearby park. Videl suggested that they should definitely go for a walk there later on and Gohan had no objections, the pair of them taking a seat opposite each other, soon engrossed in a conversation after having placed their order. The topics started off easy and carefree, with school and exams and the upcoming summer vacation for which neither of them seemed to have any plans yet. His casually dropped comment that they could maybe do something together in those weeks was met with soft enthusiasm from her side and the idea of a camping trip appeared to appeal to her most.

From there they eventually came to talk about family, sharing one big common feature in that regard: both of them knew how it was to be raised by a single parent, even though whereas Gohan's father had only been missing for seven years Videl's mother had passed away shortly after the girl's birth. Offering his soft condolences, Gohan thought he came to understand Videl a great deal better after getting to know that. Growing up without a mother must have been hard, at least he got to spent most of his childhood with his dad and albeit the seven years without him hadn't been easy, he had him back now. He thought he comprehended the girl's tough attitude and hard-edged behavior better now, her need to be strong and the resolve to never give up so that her life which her mother had died to give her would not be wasted or meaningless.

She had also been very curios about Gohan's origins, especially the reason for his inhuman strength. To hear that his father was from an extraterrestrial race of intergalactic warriors had shocked her something good, much like the truth about the Cell games. Of course she had never really been able to believe the hype of her father's supposed victory - even though Mister Satan was surely one of the strongest humans on Earth, Cell's true power, from what she had been able to see on TV, was nothing that could have been stopped by anything short of a miracle. How peculiar was it then, to find out that that very miracle was sitting right in front of her this evening.

The time flew by incredibly quickly, the pointers edging past ten o'clock when they exited the cafe again. The temperatures got slightly chillier, so Gohan shrugged off his jacket and gently wrapped it around her slender shoulders, successfully bringing another adorable blush to her cheeks. There was no hesitation in Videl's motions this time around however, as she stepped to him and linked their arms, snuggling up to his side close and trustful, continuing to listen to his incredible story during their placid walk through the park towards her home.

She had heard of Son Goku, the man had won several tournaments and his name appeared on the honor lists often enough. She hadn't thought that the man was Gohan's father however, although the name should have actually given it away. Overall, everything she'd learnt about him today had only made him more fascinating, the things he seemed to have been through in his childhood sounded very tough. All the more happier she was for him hearing that his father had returned home after having been... dead, apparently. She wasn't sure she had understood that correctly, Dragonballs, magic dragons, revivals and wishes and all that but she didn't doubt the truth of it regardless. Gohan was far too honest to make up fib stories, and many things about him spoke for themselves.

It turn it had surprised him to hear that she actually had a six-year-older step-sister from her father's first marriage; she lived several cities away and they didn't see each other often, but judging the fond way Videl spoke of her, the girls were on good terms. They didn't even notice how they eventually arrived at the end of their journey and their day, stopping on the porch of Videl's home. It was a big, lavish mansion that she thought was way too big and pompous for just two people to live in, but her father did love his luxury.

"Well... this was a very insightful and fun evening." She said with a smile, watching clement amusement curl his lips in an upward line as well.

"Definitely. I had a wonderful time with you." It would surely give him a lot to think about, but for now he was more than content with the feeling of happiness it had brought with it.

She nodded. "Me too. We should do that again soon." Her heart was fastening its pace for some reason, sensing the goodbye that neared and wanting to drag it out for some stupid reason.

"Yes, we should." He agreed firmly, feeling the same strange sensation sneak up on him as well. It was pushing him to do something he didn't know he should. Or was allowed to.

"So... I'll see you Monday on campus, then." Unwittingly, she fidgeted in her spot, one of her hands nervously toying with the strap of her small purse slung over her shoulder.

"Yes. Monday on campus, then." He found himself repeating after her again and felt like an idiot for it. Reaching one hand up, he gently placed it on her upper arm still protected by the fabric of his jacket and squeezed it lightly as though in a gesture of parting. "I'll see you there."

Videl took a tiny step forward, her body moving almost without her consent, almost like it was beckoned by his undemanding touch. "I'll see you there..." She echoed in a whisper, gazing into the intricate obsidian of his eyes that worked not unlike a magnet, searching them for something... anything that would contradict that which pulsated in her chest, causing it to tighten and making her heart a startled bird in the cage of its ribs.

But there was nothing to contradict. The emotion was entirely reciprocated, and Gohan took the risk, leaning in to gently catch her pretty lips with his own pliant pair. Her breath stayed stuck in her lungs, a fluttering tingle erupting in her stomach as her lithe little body tensed up in the wake of the sweet perception, feeling the silky warmth pressed against the sensitive surface of her lips. Her hands reached up, settling on his firm chest and delicately curling her dainty fingers into the impeccable white of his shirt, her eyes easing shut and her filigree figure shivering meekly in delight as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer gingerly. The world went spinning and faded out to the first tentative movements of their mouths acquainting themselves with each other, shyly and a bit clumsily but it took away nothing from the explosive, beautiful sensation of it. It was the very first kiss for either of them and certainly the memory would not be one to ever forget.

They parted slowly and Videl leaned into him immediately, hiding her deeply flushed face against his shoulder but refusing to let go of him just yet. She felt jittery yet warm and fuzzy inside, all the more so when he fortified his embrace around her, touching an absentminded kiss to the velvety, black crown of her hair. She could have remained like that for the reminded of the night, comfy and safe in his securing hold, which was why it was only a couple of long, peaceful minutes later that she managed to bring herself up to leave it.

They said goodbye and Videl entered her house in a daze, before a wide, dreamy smile conquered her pretty features and she went dancing up the stairs into her room, flinging herself onto her bed and burying her face into the cushion that swallowed her joyful, girlish squeal. She felt so happy she could have burst. Flipping onto her back, she reached for the hems of his jacket she still wore and pulled it tight around her, inhaling the scent of his cologne in a deep breath, giddy with the instant flood of memories it brought. Well... she guessed it was official then; she was helplessly and irrevocably... falling in love.

Dreamy was a good word to describe Gohan's state of mind when he was flying back home, too. Who would have thought that their first date would end quite this... superbly. The thrilled prickling sensation still lingered all throughout him, remembering their kiss and the wonderful feel of her fragile body in his arms. Barely a few minutes apart, he couldn't wait to see her again. So... this was it, huh? Falling in love?

He was extra careful and quiet entering the house, the time was nearing midnight and he didn't want to wake anyone. Toeing off his shoes in the foyer he tiptoed through the hallway and noticed light coming from the kitchen. Someone was still up? Changing course he soon passed the doorsill of mentioned room, spotting his father near the fridge.

"Hey, dad. Craving a midnight snack?"

Turning around with a chuckle, Goku held up a bottle of cold water. "Your old man isn't quite that big of a glutton, you know?" He chided playfully, getting an amused grin in reply. He'd woken up with a thirst, feeling his son's ki approaching home barely a moment after.

"Want some?" He offered, receiving a nod and fetching two glass out of the cupboard. "So. How was your date?" Asking, he put the glass onto the table and uncapped the bottle while Gohan walked over and pulled up a chair to sit down.

"It was... wonderful, actually." He replied honestly with a small, sheepish laugh. "Videl is a great girl. We had a lot of fun."

Finished with pouring, Goku pushed one filled crystal towards his son, sitting down in the chair next to him. "I'm happy to hear that." The teen really did appear to have some sort of inner glow about him and it did nothing but gladden his fatherly heart. Gohan deserved the happiness, Gods knew he earned it. They both took a couple of swallows, Goku's onyx eyes studying his firstborn, both contemplative and slightly distrait in their expression.

"Dad...? What is it?"

The question seemed to have snapped the full-blooded Saiyan out of his idle musings, and he meekly shook his head. "Nothing. I was just thinking how much you've grown. I still remember you as a kid, but you're almost a man now. It's..."

It was... unusual. The tall, young adult in front of him looked barely anything like the little boy he had left behind after Cell's demise. He was going to college now, dating girls... He needed to be treated differently now, too, didn't he? He was an eleven-year-old no more. Goku had missed out on seven years of that life, could he ever catch back up with it?

"Yes... I know." Twirling the glass atop the table surface, Gohan watched the water ripple gently in its translucent confines. "And you've barely changed at all." His father looked almost the same he had over half a decade ago. It was fantastic to have him back; fantastic and weird at the same time because he still didn't quite know how to... well. Behave himself around him now.

"Gohan... I've never got a chance to tell you that before, but I want you to know that I'm... well. I'm sorry." Another apology out of many he had offered to his family in the two short days where he was back home. Goku could only hope that it was enough to mend all the fissures that his absence had torn into so many things.

Lifting his head again, Gohan stared at his father in incomprehension. "Sorry...? What for, dad?" If anything, the one who should be sorry was him.

"For pitting you against Cell like that. You were but a child and I should have known better, instead I dropped the weight of the world onto your shoulders." Quite literally. The lives of everybody on Earth and the fate of the universe on the small back of an 11-year-old. "I didn't realize it until Piccolo shoved the fact into my face... That you might have been too young to understand. To bear such a burden." He would never forget the Namekian's enraged words as Cell was squashing the life out of the poor kid; the concern of a real father that broke out of him the way it should have done out of the boy's actual parent.

_"Damn it! I can't watch this anymore! Goku, I'm going to help Gohan no matter what you say."_

_"Wait, Piccolo! You can't do anything to help him. Please... Please wait a little longer."_

_"Wait? What do you mean, wait? You want me to wait until he gets killed?!"_

_"Wait for Gohan to get angry. Once he gets mad, his true power will be released. His enormous power. There's only one thing that can beat Cell and that's Gohan's anger!"_

_"Goku, you're wrong. Gohan doesn't like to fight like you! Does he know what you expect him to become? Did you tell him any of this? Do you know what he is thinking right now? I'll tell you! He's wondering why his father is just looking on while he's suffering. He must be hurt to realize that you're more concerned about the fight than his life. Remember this! Even if he is the strongest fighter, he's still just a child!"_

Piccolo had understood his son better than he had ever done, back then already and probably throughout the years of his absence as well. It was true, Gohan was way different, much less of a Saiyan than he was of a human. He had never liked to fight... for the most part, he must have been doing it for his father's sake in order to not disappoint him. "I've put you through so much pain and then I left you alone with it." He shook his head in a mix of guilt and regret, staring at his own hands folded atop the table.

"No, dad, don't." Speaking softly, Gohan tried to keep the very same emotions out of his voice, but they transpired still. "I'm the one who is sorry. If I hadn't gotten so cocky back then... if I had finished Cell off when I had the chance... you wouldn't have died in the first place." There were things he had wanted to tell his father for the longest time, too, but their farewell had been such an abrupt one, he hadn't gotten a chance either. But at least here, now...

"The years without you, I sort of accepted them as punishment for my mistake. I'm just sorry that mom and Goten got punished along with me." He had blamed himself for the longest time for that. He was the reason his mother lost her husband and his brother had to grow up without a dad. "You had put so much trust in me and I didn't manage to live up to it. If only I were more like you-"

Reaching out a hand, Goku placed it on his son's shoulder, squeezing firmly. "That's nonsense, Gohan. You got handed a task no kid should ever have to master, and you exceeded all expectations. I couldn't be more proud of you, and you won't believe how glad I am that you're _not_ like me. You saved the Earth, its people, likely the entire universe. You're a hero." Even if most would never know about it. He was genuinely happy that Gohan had nothing of the competitive Saiyan drive, that lust for challenge and the thrilled thirst for unbeatable opponents. He and what family he would once have would be much better off that way.

Gohan chuckled softly, cheerlessly. "I've never really felt like one... Losing you somehow rendered that victory almost tasteless, you know...? But I knew I had to take your place and try to fill the void the best I could regardless. Take care of mom, of Goten, of Earth and its people. To preserve the peace and the lives you died to save." The strong hand on his shoulder was a comfort, and he was glad it remained there, giving him the kind of support only a loving parent could provide. Hearing his dad say he was proud of him... it helped. It healed. His father loved him, he knew that and it was enough to forgive him all and any mistakes he might have made.

"Seeing what you were capable of as a child already, I had no doubt you would succeed in keeping everybody safe should the need arise. I've always believed in you and your strength, I always knew one day it would surpass even me. And you didn't disappoint me, ever, not once." Goku needed his boy to know that. All and everything that had happened wasn't his fault, and he didn't blame the boy for anything.

"Surpass you?" Looking up, Gohan grinned small. "I don't think anyone will ever be able to do that, dad. You're the true hero. You've always been one for me, you still are. To have you back now... You don't know how much that means to me." It meant the world, and not only to him. He wouldn't let his father die another time, not if he could at all help it. He was grown up and strong enough to protect the things he loved now, too, and it was exactly what he would do should push ever come to shove again.

"I should have never left you alone for so long. I've missed out on so much... I just hope I can make up for all the lost time." Nevertheless... It was incredibly good to hear that Gohan didn't hate him for any of it. That he actually admired his old man instead of holding a grudge. It calmed. It cured. His son loved him, Goku knew that and it was enough to try and be the parent that the boy really deserved.

Forming a fist, Gohan punched his father lightly in the chest. "Just don't leave again. Everything else will fall into place eventually. And I'm still only eighteen."

Goku laughed out, nodding firmly. It was true... there were still many wonderful years in store for them as a family, he only need make sure that they stayed as such throughout them. Which he was more than determined to do.

"Daddy? Nii-san?" The drowsy voice coming from he kitchen doorway caught their attention, a sleepy Goten walking into the room while rubbing at one of his eyes with the back of his small hand.

"Hey, champ." Picking the boy up, Goku sat him down onto his lap. "What are you doing up?"

Suppressing a yawn, the little demi reached for his father's almost empty glass. "I woke up to go to the bathroom. Then I heard voices on my way back. What're you two talking about?" He drank what few swallows the crystal container could offer him, lazily handing it to his parent to put back onto the table.

"Just about a few things from the past, like when your big brother saved the Earth."

Blinking groggily, Goten refocused the gaze of his semi-open eyes on his sibling. "From that evil Cell guy, right? He would always say he'd never have done it without the help of you and your friends." It had always been his favorite part of the story, when Gohan would tell him how their friends had aided him in the key moment of the fight and how their father had lent him the strength even from the Beyond to complete that Kamehameha and shoot Cell into oblivion.

Goku smiled softly. "Well, I suppose he's right. All of our friends had always been there to help me save the world as well." No matter what fight or what opponent, he would never claim all the credit himself. He might have done most of the heavy lifting, but none of his victories would have been victories without others lending a crucial hand.

Goten lifted his head to look at his father with puerile zest. "Ne, dad, when I grow up can I save the world, too?"

Both Goku and Gohan laughed out sonorously at that. "Let's hope you'll never have to, son. It's a very painful and messy undertaking. And if anything happened to you, your mother would likely have my head."

"She just might, yes." The silver voice resounding now belonged to the lady of the house, her slender form draped in a long robe entering the kitchen as well.

Raising a hand, Goku scratched at the back of his head, expression apologetic. "Sorry, Chi. Did we wake you up?" Somehow his midnight trip for a glass of water had turned out into a full family gathering. Not that he at all minded that.

"Not really, no." Walking over to her husband, Chichi picked Goten up into her arms and plopped down onto Goku's lap herself instead. "What are all of my men doing in the kitchen this late at night, though?" Asking, she pinched the silky cheek of her youngest, getting him to grimace while Goku wrapped an arm around her waist to act a backrest to the provisory chair of his legs. "Breakfast is not for another seven-eight hours, you know?"

All of them had a laugh out of that, enjoying the light-hearted, warm atmosphere of a wholesome family, the beautiful perception of a complete home and comfortable togetherness. It was the simplest, most curative magic in the whole wide world, mending all and any cracks, healing many wounds and easing old scars. This here, was what made life so very worth living.

Chichi began questioning their firstborn about his date then and Goku was interested in hearing details on that as well. Goten tried to stay awake but fell asleep in his mother's familiar cradle halfway through the conversation, to the soothing melody of dear voices in the background.

Eventually it ended with Chichi setting a date for a dinner where she instructed Gohan to invite his girlfriend to, so that she might get to know her. Gohan had no objection to the idea but mildly protested against the term _girlfriend_ with a blush, it was too early to call Videl that just yet. Wasn't it...? He wouldn't deny that it had a very nice ring to it, though.

Time neared half past two a.m. when Chichi finally declared that all of them ought to be long under the covers by now, to which she received overall agreement. Goku brought Goten back to bed and Gohan went to his room, the entire household soon enwrapped by silence and serenity as all its members drifted off into a sound, peaceful slumber with four different hearts letting their palpitations flow together into one strong, passionate heartbeat of a reunited, loving family.


	8. Fatherhood

This chapter was a rather emotional write, to be honest. Especially the ending.

It also took me a fair while to get all my plot ducks in a row considering some of the things Vegeta elaborates on in this, and considering how I would want to handle them in the future. I have grand plans! -laughs-

Thank you to all my reviewers and followers, I hope you guys will continue to have fun reading =) And now, off goes:

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

**Fatherhood**

He was up late for his standards, the alarm clock showing half past nine when he glanced at it after having swung his legs off the mattress, moving to sit up in bed. Having been snuggled up to his durable back, Bulma made a protesting little sound at the loss of her comfy, life-size body pillow.

"You know, it wouldn't hurt you to sleep in once in a while. It's Sunday, Vegeta."

He chuckled and straightened out, now up firmly on his two feet. "Saiyan training knows no weekends, woman. You humans are far too weak-willed and lazy, needing breaks every five days." He had never understood the concept of that. He comprehended the need to rest of course, he just didn't see the purpose of making it an actual, timed schedule like that.

She giggled lightly; he always called her 'woman' when he tried to make a point of something and sound more stern, and whenever he used that designation it brought back memories of the early days of their relationship. "Alright, alright, you manly Saiyan, you. Go train, just try not to break any bones or you'll be no use to our defenses despite all of your hard work." Regardless the lightheartedness of the comment however, she did not forget that there was a new danger lurking on the horizon, although a small part of her strongly hoped that Jion would never manage to find his way to planet Earth.

Slipping into a pair of black pants and a tank top, Vegeta chuckled haughtily. "If I do, I'm sure you'll fix me up quick and proper. After all, that's what you're here for."

She didn't see it but she could nearly hear his trademark smirk in those teasing words. Blindly grasping for the pillow on his side of the bed, she flung it in his general direction. "Get out of here before _I_ break your bones, mister."

Catching the unorthodox projectile, his smirk all but widened. Leave it to his peeress to threaten a man who could snap her in half with a flick of his finger. "I would love to see you try. Sounds like it could be lots of fun."

Bulma grinned. "Pervert."

Gingerly, he tossed the cushion back towards the bed and right onto her blue-topped head. "Takes one to know one."

She laughed out, the melody of it slightly muffled by the pillow atop her. "Touché, my prince." Her brain did harbor its share of naughty thoughts, but with a lover like that who could really blame her?

Vegeta left the bedroom on his way downstairs a moment later, leaving Bulma to her typically slow awakening process and her morning rituals, proceeding to the kitchen and slightly surprised to find that somebody was apparently as much of an early bird as him.

"What are you doing?"

Lynn startled from the unexpected voice intoning the question, swirling around from the stove she'd been facing. "Oh, Vegeta-san. Good morning. I was... well. Preparing breakfast. I hope that's alright, I didn't mean to overstep any boundaries." Speaking quietly in evident anxiety, she didn't manage to keep eye contact, lowering her gaze almost bashfully.

This man flustered her, his stern appearance and authoritative demeanor were daunting. Moreover, he apparently knew about the EST and had been involved with it in some way or another, which was only making him even more intimidating. Of course her jumpy behavior didn't escape Vegeta's astute awareness, enticing him to furrow a brow.

"Relax, girl. You're acting like I'm going to eat you." He wouldn't ever say it out loud, but in a way, he could sympathize with her. It wasn't easy, being the last of your kind and getting exploited for it. Plopping down unto a chair at the table, he cast a glance at the pots and pans atop the stove. If he were honest, it smelled rather good. "So is it edible, whatever it is that you're cooking up?"

Lynn smiled small and hurried to fetch him a plate. "I certainly hope so. I've been cooking for others almost all my life, but today is the first time that I actually enjoyed it. Maybe it will transpire in the taste." Kitchen duty had been a daily obligation for her back on Jigessar and after ten years, she could say her skills weren't half that bad. But it had always been what it had been – a duty that she had to do because it was punishable not to. It could not compare to doing something out of your own volition, simply because you wanted to and not because you were being forced into it.

"Judging from this, the folks on Jigessar eat normal food, then." He commented as she placed the plate down in front of him. It looked as good as it smelled, so obviously she knew how to handle different ingredients.

"Just about." Lynn replied, pouring him a glass of freshly pressed juice. "Only that everything was… bigger. Your eggs, vegetables, fruits… its all about a dozen sizes smaller."

He raised a brow in interest at that. The information itself didn't exactly astound him, he'd seen plenty weird stuff during his space travels and he'd eaten plenty weird food during it as well, but luckily Saiyan stomachs were accustomed to quite a lot and never really caused any problems in that regard.

"Wildlife is sparse on Jigessar, so the inhabitants have perfected the cultivation of what little they have. Their poultry is about the size of the cows here, and crops and plants would likely compare to this planet's young trees." She seemed to become gradually more at ease as she spoke, back to bustling around the kitchen while he tried the food. It tasted even better than it smelled and looked, even though he kept that remark to himself.

"But Earth also has quite the diversified climate. Jigessar is very arid in comparison, there are no real seasons. It's all one long summer but since there is plenty of water, it yields a lot of rain. I've never seen something like winter, snow, ice." Judging her dreamy tone, she would very much like to.

"For somebody who's been here barely two days, you know quite a lot about Earth." The elite noted, mutely handing her the already empty plate which Lynn accepted joyfully, taking that as his approval of her cooking and quickly refilling it.

"I've been watching a lot of television." She confessed her new-found addiction; there were just so many interesting programs that kept feeding her more and more knowledge of this star she'd landed on.

Her response got Vegeta to snort in amusement: "Ain't that the best source of education."

The petite brunette giggled and nodded, thinking to herself that he really wasn't at all as bad as she'd initially assumed. He'd struck her as scary at first glance, but appeared perfectly civil underneath. She certainly didn't hold it against him that he'd been so austerely mistrustful towards her at the beginning either, it had been quite a reasonable reaction given the circumstances.

"Well, something smells delicious here. Morning, Lynn." Entering the kitchen, Bulma was pleased to see the girl and Vegeta having what seemed to be a friendly conversation. She wanted Lynn to feel comfortable here, and she had almost feared that yesterday might have achieved the exact opposite.

"Good morning, Bulma-san. I borrowed your kitchen for a bit, I hope you don't mind."

Easing into a seat in the chair next to her boyfriend, the blue-haired genius smiled merrily. "Are you kidding? You can borrow it whenever you want."

"Because it's not like Bulma ever uses it." Vegeta supplemented casually. "Perhaps you could also try to teach her how to cook, but I fear that's a lost cause."

To that, the young Briefs heiress extended a dainty hand to smack the prince on his muscular upper arm. "Shut up, you! You're exceptionally mean to me today; why?" Not that she really minded per se, it was nice to see him a bit more relaxed and complacent for a change. Like he'd made some sort of decision that he was content with, or maybe he'd just woken up in a good mood.

Vegeta meanwhile, shrugged nonchalantly. "No reason."

She huffed and wrinkled her petite nose at him, while Lynn tried hard to suppress her laughter. The pair of them was lovely together. Was this… how a relationship was supposed to be like? Two completely different personalities building a harmonic whole. It seemed like something wonderful... Unwittingly, she found herself reminded of yesterday night and of _him_. Piccolo. She wondered what he might be doing right now, when she might get to see him again... She would want it to be soon.

"By the way, Lynn. Today is open Sunday at the mall! So you and I, we are totally going for a round of shopping. You definitely need some new clothes." Taking a bite, Bulma intoned a sound of delight, pointing the tip of her fork towards the dish she'd been served. "Also, this tastes amazing!"

Blushing softly, the girl bowed small. "Thank you. And, I... I don't have anything on me. I wouldn't know how to ever repay you, you're doing so much for me already." She was living under their roof and eating their food, they really didn't need to provide her a wardrobe atop of that. "I- I can sew. If you have old dresses you don't need anymore, I can use those."

"She doesn't keep old dresses." Vegeta threw in another offhanded comment. "She has a new get-up for every day of the year."

That earned his sturdy arm another smack that he felt nothing at all of. "Vegeta!"

Her reprimanding exclaim and her pouting in playful anger only got him to smirk: "What? It's true."

Bulma glowered. "Is not!" Demonstratively turning away from him with a cute little "Hmpf!", she focused her attention on Lynn again. "Don't worry your pretty little head about any of it. We're going right after breakfast, and no buts!"

Thus, not too much later, exactly that had come to pass, both Bulma and the girl getting into the car and lifting off to let it take them towards the city center.

Back in their bedroom, Vegeta rummaged inside his closet for a pair of his favorite training shorts to change into and a towel to take with, intent on heading off to another long training session in the GR. The soft knock on the door caused him to halt in his motions, putting the just fetched pieces of fabric aside atop the commode. "Come on in." He spoke an invitation to enter, the distinct ki signature letting him know who it was and thusly he wasn't surprised to see Trunks' smart head peeking in.

"Hey, dad. Got a minute?" The boy was avoiding eye contact and the reason for it was easy to guess.

"Sure." The elite replied, his heir slipping inside and nudging the door shut again. For a moment, there was absolute silence between them, uncomfortable and onerous in presence.

"I just... wanted to apologize. For yesterday. For yelling. I didn't mean to snap like that. So... yeah. I'm sorry." The little demi started backing out of the door again in order to leave as quickly as he came, but didn't get far.

"Trunks." To his father's calm, steady voice, the boy instantly froze in all motion. Vegeta took a seat on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to him. "Come here."

Trunks approached hesitantly, climbed onto the bed and pinned his gaze down to his own lap where his hands squeezed at each other nervously. The continuous silence that had erupted anew was visibly distressing him, but it wasn't like Vegeta was purposely putting his son on the rack. It was just so goddamn hard...

"Are you very angry with me? I really am sorry, dad." He really wished his father would say something... The looming, wordless atmosphere was excruciating. Finally then...

"It's okay, Trunks. I'm not mad at you."

Cerulean eyes snapped their gaze up to Vegeta in an mixture of relief and hope. "Really...?" Watching his father nod was a great load off Trunks' mind. He had struggled with a guilty conscience ever since his outburst at dinner yesterday.

"Really. I understand why you were so upset; I overheard you and your mother talking yesterday." Unnoticed to himself, Vegeta crossed his arms in front of his chest. "And she was right, you know. It's not easy for me to talk about my past." He had no idea where to start. How to start. Fortunately for him, his son's puerile curiosity helped him out:

"Why...?" The boy asked softly, relaxing slowly. It didn't look like he would get a scolding, more like he might get some answers.

"It's not a very pretty tale." At least Vegeta's characteristic terseness was of aid here, his answers were clear and succinct, no beating around the bush. "I've done a lot of bad things in my past." At least what qualified as 'bad' by human standards. Killing and oppressing those weaker than yourself wasn't really a crime by Saiyan understanding, but rather a guideline of sorts. It's how his race had thought and lived, yet Trunks was not a Saiyan. He was raised with human morals, humans values and frankly, Vegeta agreed that it was for the best because his own way, the Saiyan way, had already proved itself erroneous.

"Did your mother ever tell you how I ended up on Earth? How she and I got to know each other?"

Trunks shifted to climb onto the bed fully and sit on it cross-legged, facing his father's solemn profile, the man's strong body at ease in its dignified, somewhat defensive position. "Just a little. She said you had a fight with uncle Goku once and things just fell into place afterwards."

Vegeta sounded a cheerless chuckle. Fell into place, huh? "It wasn't just a fight, son. I came to Earth looking for the Dragonballs, intend to make myself immortal. I didn't care who would stand in the way of my wish and if Kakarot hadn't stopped me, I would have blown this planet to pieces by the end of it."

Loosely closing his eyes as to not see what expressions might come to pass his heir's youthful face, he kept his voice quiet and composed, firm in the words he spoke. "I had little regard for anyone else's life other than my own; even the few loyal comrades that I had. I've even killed one of them with my own hands." And Nappa hadn't deserved to go out like that. He might have been an oaf, but he'd been a real Saiyan warrior and one of the most loyal and long-lasting retainers Vegeta had had. To then get murdered by one of his own... But regret would not make anything better now, nor erase the happenings of the past.

"I had asked uncle Goku yesterday... Why the two of you had fought. He'd told me... You were simply very upset, and angry. He said you wanted revenge... and that had blinded you. You didn't care what it would cost, you wanted to achieve your goal. He said that is your nature."

Hm. The low-class was far more perceptive than he let on. He'd comprehended so much of Vegeta and his motives from just watching him do what he did and say what he said... The prince didn't know how comfortable he felt about that, about his rival understanding so much of him whereas he himself knew almost close to nothing about Kakarot himself. Granted, he'd never really tried or cared about getting close to the fool in the first place, and yet...

"He got only half of it. A part of me did enjoy the fighting. The killing, the feeling of superiority." That side of Saiyan nature was inerasable, innate and intrinsic. He was sure Kakarot felt it, too, the thirst for fight, the thrill of challenge. The only difference was that he took pleasure in defeating his opponents, not killing them. It seemed coming out victorious was enough for him, moreover he'd try to befriend his enemy afterwards out of all things.

"But he is also right. I was very angry. Furious, in fact." At least he knew that his rival could feel those emotions as well. Not very often, but Kakarot could get pissed off as well, and when he did, he was just as scary as any other Saiyan could ever be. They were still of the same race, the pair of them. Perhaps the last remaining two.

"Because of Freeza?" Trunks issued a soft guess. He had been told the watered down tale of the space tyrant - by his mother and by Goten's brother, but the best and detailed explanation about it he had heard yesterday from uncle Goku. He just didn't want to explicitly point that out because kid or not, he had very well picked up on the fact that his father bore some sort of grudge against the other full-blooded Saiyan. Either way, he had a good enough image of Freeza in his head by now. "He was the one who destroyed your home planet, right?"

Nodding lightly, Vegeta gave a one-word reply first. "Indeed." Explaining it in depth was harder, because it meant he had to dig into his emotions and articulate them. Two things that he was entirely terrible at, by choice rather than by incapability. Regardless, for the peace of his son's mind, he was willing to give it a go.

"I hated the bastard. I wanted to make him pay for what he'd done, but I just wasn't strong enough. Having to serve under the creature responsible for the death of your entire race messes with your head. I tried to act like I couldn't care less, but I think he always knew better and he enjoyed making me do his bidding while knowing full well that I would kill him if I had the chance. That helplessness, that anger; I took it out on everybody around me. " His voice had hardened with the memories, and so did his features, his expression echoing a shadow of past fury and pain.

It let Trunks know – that which he was hearing, was the real story. His father was sharing something deeply personal with him, and he felt both elated about the trust shown and sad about the horrible truth laid bare. He hated what his father had had to go through and he hated that Freeza guy's guts even though he'd never even met him.

"Learning of the Dragonballs, of what they could do, presented me a way out. If I could become immortal, if I had that kind of power, I could tear Freeza apart. But the sad thing about it is, the way I was back then, I would have likely simply taken his place as a despicable intergalactic tyrant." Vegeta's mouth twitched in a cheerless, insightful grin. He'd been violent and hungry for power back then, he'd have taken pleasure in dismantling Freeza and his posse and then subjugating the rest of the universe, eventually turning into an equally evil megalomaniac. Wouldn't that have been quite the bitter irony, becoming the thing you hated most?

"I'm glad that you didn't, dad…" The boy beside him said quietly. Disregarding all that had been revealed to him today, he still thought his dad was perfect exactly the way he was. His father wasn't easy to handle, but that didn't make him any less of an admirable person in his eyes and he wouldn't want to trade his parent for anybody else.

"Yeah… Me, too." The prince agreed clemently. All things considered, everything had turned out for the better in the end. He was happy where he was now and it was the reason he fought so hard to keep it.

"Is that why you're always so upset with uncle Goku, though?"

Furrowing his brows, Vegeta finally opened his eyes to look at his offspring. "What do you mean?" It didn't take an exceptionally sharp wit to notice his mellowed out hostility towards Kakarot, he guessed, but now he was quite interested to hear his son's perception of it.

"Well… he killed Freeza. He took your revenge from you."

He thought Bulma had been entirely right yesterday. Their boy was much smarter than most would give him credit for, even Vegeta himself - a mistake he would certainly not repeat again. The keen observation was pretty spot on, even if it accounted for only half the reasons Kakarot's entire existence rubbed Vegeta the wrong way.

"It's a big part of it, yes." The other big part, he had never really told to anyone. It was another bitter offense he had suffered from the younger man, even though technically, Kakarot couldn't _really_ be blamed for it.

Nevertheless, speaking with his son like this, Vegeta realized that he was letting his rivalry with Kakarot affect too many things. Neither Goten nor Trunks should be impinged on because of it. "But that is between he and I. You boys needn't concern yourselves with that, we'll work it out in our own terms someday." He thought he did need to take the cheery fellah aside and have a conversation about that thing and the other, from the new, possibly fast approaching threat to the issue of the bubbling fool taking it upon himself to shape the prince's reputation in a positive way.

He supposed he could appreciate the effort for Trunks' sake if he wanted to, but he didn't want to. He didn't require any help from a low-class warrior. In the same breath, the fact remained that he and Kakarot might have been the last two full-blooded Saiyans standing. The man was one of his brethren, the only one he had left. Perhaps it was worth it to at least try and hold out the olive branch.

"Dad? How was it like? Your home planet?" Trunks posing a question interrupted his father's idle trail of thoughts.

"Vegetasei? I don't remember it all too clearly anymore. I left it when I was still very young, and I didn't have a chance to return anymore – Freeza had destroyed it shortly after." He tried to recall a distinct picture, but it was indefinite and mixing up with the snapshots of the hundreds and thousands of other planets he had seen throughout his years of galactic travel. He couldn't remember anything that stood out about Vegetasei particularly.

There was incomprehension in bright blue eyes. "Why did you leave?" He had sounded so casual saying that he'd left home. Like it was no big deal at all, but for Trunks, the idea to leave and never get back to his own home was an estranging, nigh unimaginable scenario.

Vegeta's answer war succinct, and rather detached: "My father's orders. It was part of the deal he'd made with Freeza." He didn't hate his old man for it, particularly because he really hadn't managed to establish a close enough relationship with the former King to feel attached enough to be offended by the monarch's past decision. He'd been too young, and as far as he could remember, his father had always been busy. They had never really had the time to bond, not that Saiyans had valued that in parenthood in the first place.

Emotions were a weakness, as were attachments, it could be exploited and used against you so it was better not to establish any. Looking at Kakarot... they might have had it all wrong. As much as bonding with another person could be a weakness, it turned out to be an even greater source of strength. Kids on Vegetasei were raised as warriors, not as daughters and sons; hell, Kakarot himself was the perfect example of it. He'd been sent away as a baby already, Vegeta had been sent away as a kid. They had sort of shared a similar fate in that regard, hadn't they?

Of course, for his son's puerile understanding and with the way he'd been raised here on Earth, something like that was incomprehensible. And secretly, Vegeta was content with that. He had never wanted to be like his father, and he didn't want to treat his heir in King Vegeta's manner either. He wanted the exact opposite. In a way he was glad he had gotten to raise his heir by Earth's family customs, not by Saiyan's.

"He gave you away...?" Was thus the taken aback question posed.

The prince shrugged lightly. "You could say that. I was the heir to the throne; it was in Freeza's interest to keep me close and try to raise me into one of his own men. For my father it was a deal well sealed, business with Freeza was lucrative and paid more than well, just like staying on good terms with the Icejin was a necessity. He thought he could secure a good relationship and a peaceful coexistence that way, but Freeza had other plans." The bastard had only aimed to gain their trust, lull them into a false sense of security. It was a bitter thought, Freeza had been afraid of them and in the end, he managed to outsmart and obliterate them without even trying too hard. They had played right into his hands. Well, all of them except for- But he'd rather not think on that.

"He crushed us together with our planet. If we had united our strength we might have stood a chance against him, but we were too consumed with our own egos, our pride and our bloodlust. And once there was only a handful of us left, we ceased being a threat to Freeza so he kept us around. We were very efficient when it came to killing and conquering, after all." Yes. Blatant destruction, that the Saiyans were best at. A skill any true tyrant knew to value.

"But what about your mom? Didn't she say anything at all about it?" Staring at his dad with large eyes, Trunks was hanging on every word, soaking the stories told up like a dried out sponge.

Vegeta furrowed his brows. His mother... He attempted to recall her face, but there was nothing. Only a vague outline of it, framed by long, black hair. She'd had long hair, it was all he knew for sure. "I barely remember her." He replied truthfully. "She left shortly after I was born, together with my brother and sister."

That was the moment the little demi's jaw dropped in shock, and he nearly toppled face first onto the covers as he leaned forward. "You have siblings?!" He would have never guessed. Did that mean he actually had a real aunt and uncle somewhere out there?

The boy's father chuckled. The astonishment was warranted, he had never mentioned his siblings to anyone before. Nobody had ever asked, Bulma didn't pry and he had no tendency to talk about his past on his own accord. "Yes, two. Tarble and Zeleria, twins. I haven't heard from them in ages, though... I don't know if either of them is still alive."

He'd seen them only a couple of times when they had still been tiny babies in the incubator. He remembered Tarble well because he was the spitting image of Vegeta and their father, but Zeleria, just like their mother, was a blur. They must have looked alike, then... Sometimes he did wonder how his estranged siblings might have been doing, whether they were even still alive. He didn't suppose that he would ever get to know.

"Why did she leave...?"

The answer to that would be another intricate, somewhat painful truth. "I didn't know for the longest time, until one of my comrades told me." Even though he had treated neither Radditz nor Nappa as comrades back then, more like subordinates. That had been his right he supposed, but now he wished he had used the opportunity to ask the other two warriors more questions while he'd still had the chance. He had still been very young and hadn't spent much time on Vegetasei at all, but Nappa and Radditz had been two seasoned fighters who could remember the planet and its history much clearer and better. Nappa would randomly tell him things in conversations, and Radditz... Radditz had been an entirely different story altogether.

"He told me that my mother had left shortly after my brother and sister were born. The King had signed me over to Freeza, and he was planning on shooting Tarble off to some distant planet because he'd been born with a very low power level and was deemed a disgrace to the royal lineage." Outsourcing, you might call it. The Saiyan society had thrived on power, it had been their trademark throughout the galaxy and anyone not up to standards was discarded. Women had somewhat been an exception because they had another purpose aside of fighting - procreation, and they had usually had a choice between leading a warrior's life or go for a domestic existence. Boys however...

"She was mad and they had a fight, and she had feared for herself and the life of my siblings." Incurring the wrath of the King of all Saiyans had never been a good thing, even for his own wife. "So she took them and left, disappearing to nobody knew where." He supposed it was what you could call the equivalent of a human divorce.

"I have never heard from her again. Sometimes I would catch rumors of Tarble, and he had sent me a message once or twice. I hadn't cared to reply." Which he regretted by now, too. He hadn't heard anything from his sister at all, and even though Tarble would mention her he could no longer remember what exactly his sibling had been saying about her or their mother anymore. He had only skimmed the messages and had never kept any of them. Too bad, if he pondered it now.

"You never wanted to go into space and find them?"

Not until recently where things had calmed down, he guessed. But like most of the things in his life, that insight was once again too late. "So many things happened. After Freeza, all I could focus on was becoming a Super Saiyan. After that came the Androids, more training, more fighting. Your mother... You. Once Cell was defeated, I didn't want to just up and leave again. I wanted to stay with your mom. I wanted to watch you grow up and help her raise you."

Gazing down onto the strap of mattress between them, Trunks was quiet for a moment. "You stayed because of mom and I?" He then asked softly. He had never assumed... He had always been puzzled about the reason for his father to have stayed here, and now he knew it. And it made him feel... incredible. Touched, and happy, and... loved.

"Yes. I have made many mistakes in my life, Trunks. Have done too many horrible things, killed too many living beings, innocent and not." All of that Vegeta would never deny. It was part of who he was, part of how he became what he was, part of his past and part of his nature. "But the two of you are the one good thing that came out of it all; you two are one of the few things I did right in my life. There's nothing more important to me than the both of you." Training, getting stronger, surpassing Kakarot; those were all goals but they all were secondary objectives in the grand scheme of things. There was one task that would always be above all of that, even if he'd never say it out loud to anyone.

Vegeta turned to his heir and reached out a hand, curling his index finger underneath the boy's chin and nudging that smart head up so that he could lock gazes with those bright eyes of sky-blue color. "I would do anything for you and your mother, Trunks. Never doubt that." He might not say it often. He might not show it often, either. But he wanted both of them to know that he had their backs, always; that he would be there to protect them come what may. He wanted both Bulma and his son to know that they could count on him to be there should they need him, to be there when it truly mattered, to never let them down. He needed them to know that, to believe in that and to believe in him because he'd come to thrive on that.

Biting on his lower lip, the thick of emotions gathered in his chest stifled Trunks' voice to a whisper, genuine and devoted. "I won't anymore, dad... Never ever." He would never again doubt his father's feelings for his mother and himself. He cared nothing for what had been and had happened years over years ago, in his eyes, his dad was the best dad in the world.

Watching those admiration-filled eyes becoming increasingly dewy and the trembling lower lip in the grip of white teeth, Vegeta's hand slipped from that shapely chin to the back of that clever head, giving his son a gentle pull. "Get over here."

Trunks lunged into his arms with a force that almost got him to topple over backwards on the bed, those small arms snapping around his neck to hug him with a palpable, desperate force. He was a Saiyan alright. Vegeta's lips twitched upward in a calm, fond smile as he wrapped his own arms around the tiny body pressing up to him, hearing the heartfelt words that got uttered against the curvature of his neck and shoulder where that youthful face was hidden on.

"I love you so much, dad..."

The words had a greater impact on him than Vegeta could have expected, causing his chest to tighten with the swell of fatherly affection. Truly, the unconditional love and trust of your child was the ultimate joy of fatherhood, and he could not have been more grateful for being given the chance to experience it. After everything he'd done, fate had truly been too kind to allow Bulma into his life.

It was a rare display of emotion, but if this was not the perfect place and time for it, when could it ever be? Thus, turning his head, Vegeta touched a protective kiss to the top of his heir's soft, amethyst strands, giving a firm, affectionate reply: "I love you, too, son."


	9. Winding Road

Hi ya, folks!

I'm glad all of you enjoyed the last chapter, and as for Vegeta's little outburst of affection at the end there... Well, I thought if he could shed a tear for his race and plead with Goku to avenge it while on the verge of dying, it would be feasible enough to have him kiss his son on the forehead and tell him he loves him -laughs- He always seemed like the 'go with the current mood' kinda person to me, and I felt like the mood was just right by the end of the chapter.

Although I won't deny that my inner fangirl might have gotten the best of me, too. As somebody who grew up without a father, I get all mushy and wistful when it comes to father-child bonding. I mean, my mother did an amazing job as a parent and she raised me a good and mostly happy kid, but sometimes I do wonder what having a dad feels like. I mean, I can imagine how it feels like but a part of me wishes I had the chance to actually experience it, too.

Anyhoo! This chapter will give a glimpse at 18 and Krillin; I had thought for a while about how to start this chapter and then one of you mentioned in their comment that they'd like to see these two and I was like - you know what? Good idea, let's roll with it XD I also had a blast writing Lynn and Piccolo, they have such adorable dynamics. You can expect to see more of them, and I feel we're pretty close to getting to some action and suspense, too.

So, there's many interesting things ahead in this story, and now I hope you'll have fun reading:

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

**Winding Road**

Looking out of the window towards the horizon, Krillin audibly heaved a slow, deep breath.

"What are you sighing for?" His wife questioned, gently closing the door to their daughter's bedroom behind her. She had just put Marron to sleep, walking over to the couch where he sat on and plopping down beside him.

"It looks like Goku, Piccolo and Goten are sparring over at his house. That is some incredible power being unleashed." It was a pity she could not sense it, the flaring of those kis was inconceivable. Goku's flashed most strongly, so he could only assume that the man's son and Piccolo must be teaming up on him. He would be seriously terrified if he didn't know for sure that they were the good guys.

"Jealous?" Eighteen teased him good-heartedly, eliciting another sigh from the former monk.

"Quite, actually. Can't help but feel a little bit useless and outclassed." Even his own spouse was by now stronger than him. Krillin never really had an issue with power levels per se, and he had long came to accept that there were some beings in the universe that are simply impossible to catch up with for a human, yet still sometimes... the seat on the sidelines wasn't as easy to warm.

"Don't be an idiot." Saying that, Eighteen reached out to lightly smack him on his shoulder. "You've done a lot for this planet and for them, so take credit. It's not your fault you're not an alien with ridiculous power growth."

"Or an android with infinite energy." He chuckled, getting her to huff and cross her arms over her chest in that lovely manner that was entirely hers. Looking at her, he thought that disregarding all and everything, he was a very lucky man. And a very happy man, too, so there wasn't much of a reason to complain.

Shifting atop the couch, he swung his legs up and lay down, pillowing his head on her lap and gazing up at her. "Still, sometimes I miss it, you know? Being out there with them, helping; the action, the fighting-"

"The dying?" She cut in, meeting his gaze with her ice-colored own. But there was no amusement in her eyes, just a stern kind of earnestness.

Krillin sounded a small laugh. "No. No, that, I don't miss."

Eighteen swept one of her middle-long, blonde bangs behind her ear, her voice acquiring a mildly hard edge to it. "I'm serious, Krillin. If whoever that Jion is does crash land here, promise me you won't be out there doing anything stupid trying to be a hero."

He blinked, the easy-going humor slipping away from his expression. "I don't know, babe. I mean... if they will really need the help-"

"Whatever can you do to help them?" She interrupted resolutely once again. "The five of them barely managed to handle that Raz or whatever his name was, what makes you think you could make a difference if that happens again?" Furrowing his brows, a certain look came across his features, one she had seen only a couple of times throughout the years she'd known him. That sort of... strong-minded determination impossible to sway, and even though it worried her she couldn't help finding it... adorably attractive, too. After all, it was one of the many reasons she'd married him for.

"I've made a difference often enough already. The very fact that you're here and we're together is one of them." He spoke solemnly, watching her pretty face lose the hints of tension and anger in its expression, replaced by unease and concern.

"I know. I just..." Sighing, she uncrossed her arms and lowered a hand to cup his smooth-shaved cheek. "You can't leave me and Marron alone, got it? So if you die doing something reckless, I will hate you forever." That last part was more of an idle threat of course, because she didn't know if she could ever hate him. Eighteen wasn't scared of many things in her life, but losing her husband or her daughter was one of them.

After all the bullshit Gero had pulled her and her brother through, she had never hoped to find this kind of peace. Happiness. Family. A home. She had always hated the fighting and now that she knew what the feeling of peace and a good life together with people you loved was like, she wanted to neither lose it nor give it up. She was okay with sitting on the sidelines and hoping for the home team to win, because she knew her life was no longer her own to throw away. She had a daughter to think of. A daughter whom she would not want to grow up without either of her parents.

The smile settled back onto Krillin's lips, soft and understanding. Curling his fingers around her wrist, he gave her a light pull. "Yeah. I love you, too, babe."

She gave off a quiet "Hmpf," but complied with his direction, leaning down for a strong, affectionate kiss and when their lips met with gentle fervor, Krillin forgot all about the flaring kis outside his window and the alien threat outside his planet's stratosphere. He knew just as well that his life wasn't his own to throw away anymore, but if push should really come to shove, he would still risk it any day, any time. For her. For their daughter. For a chance to preserve the love and life and happiness they had.

All the way across, above a glade not far off the Son residence, three bright flames were blazing high up in the air; a stark blue, a bright yellow and an iridescent aureate flaring strongly around the bodies engulfed in a combat with no quarter. Krillin's assumption was right, Goku was being teamed up against and the young full-blooded Saiyan was finding himself hard-pressed and kept on his toes by the combined strength of his opponents. He hadn't had a chance to spar with Piccolo after the Namekian's fusion with Kami, neither had he ever fought against his second son and both were not to be underestimated.

Goten was easier to hold at bay because he was still young and mostly focused on charging right on forward full of verve and energetic drive, however Goku was thoroughly impressed at how early an age his boy had already been able to unlock the transformation that it took Goku himself years over years to ever reach. He couldn't help but notice a certain trait transpire in his offspring's style and it made him smile inwardly, Vegeta really had done an outstanding job teaching the boy the essence of Saiyan fighting. Direct and relentless, getting right back up and at them whenever knocked down.

Piccolo however, was a different story. He might have been inferior to Goku in terms of raw power, but the Namekian was a tactician at heart and his battle wit more than made up for the difference in brute strength, evened out even further by Goten so that Goku couldn't let his guard down for a second, certainly taking as many blows ad he was dishing out. He was also only slowly getting used to fighting in a real body again, after seven years of training in the Otherworld he had gotten detached from the perception of physical pain, though he could say he had sort of missed it, too. It made him feel alive, in a sense, or rather it was confirming him that he was. It was wonderful to be back and that was why he laughed out loud and heartfelt when he landed on the ground flat on his back, crashing through some trees and denting the layer of soil he impacted on.

Goten, having blasted off after him, sent a barrage of ki shots at him, stopping the second he realized that his father hadn't been deflecting a single one of them. Coming to a full stop near the small cloud of dust that had enwrapped his parent, the little demi Saiyan exclaimed in panic. "Oh my God, dad! Are you alright?! I thought you'd block that, why didn't you?!"

His reply was continuous laughter as Goku scrambled to sit up cross-legged on the ground, releasing his transformation with a flash of energy that swept same cloud of dust away again. He heard the soft sound of soles touching to earth not far off.

"You're about the only person I know who would laugh after taking a ki barrage to his face." Piccolo's amused voice remarked, gazing down on the cheerful Saiyan warrior sitting in the medium-deep crater the collision of his body with the ground had created.

"Sorry," Goku uttered between more laughter and gasps for air, reaching out a hand and grabbing his son by the arm to pull him into his lap and mess up his blonde hair. As much as you could mess up Saiyan hair anyway, since all the soft, sun-kissed strands did was spring right back into their spiked, upright shape. "Don't worry, champ, I'm all fine. You did great; I see Vegeta taught you well in terms of going in for the kill."

Goten was giggling and chortling happily by now, too, halfheartedly trying to escape his father's grasp but visibly enjoying the interaction and the fooling around. Watching the two, Piccolo felt a momentary, small jab of clement envy; family indeed did seem like a wonderful thing. He might have raised Gohan in equal - if not longer - strides but Goku was still the boy's father and he had seen how those eyes would light up with joy and affection only a child-parent bond could really bring out. Even after seven dozens of months of absence, his sons and his wife seem to be elated to welcome their husband and father back home and each and everyone of them appeared happier than they had been in years.

"Ha! Slipped you!" Proud of his achievement to have finally escaped his dad's undemanding grip, Goten was floating in the air while Goku erupted into a grin. In all his merriness the boy wasn't very aware of his surroundings anymore and missed what the full-blooded Saiyan and the Namekian noted almost immediately.

"You better watch out!" Goku warned through a wide smile, the puzzlement barely managing to settle on his son's youthful features: "Watch out for what-"

"For me!" Going Super mid-flight, Trunks tackled his best friend from the side, eliciting a stifled "Eeep!" from the younger demi as both of them went rolling over the ground. Goku went into another laughing fit and even Piccolo was unable to contain a laugh of his own, observing the two runts wrestle each other with no care in the world. Trunks in particular appeared to be brimming over with zestful spirit and he truly was - after the conversation with his father this morning he felt like his heart had grown a pair of wings, fluttering about joyfully within his little chest.

Focusing his ki for a moment, Piccolo let it spike up, recreating his torn up, dark-purple gi and adding his favorite white cape and turban as well. Goku looked upwards to him, chuckling.

"Man, sometimes I wish I could do that, too." His current appearance was very messy to say the least, with shreds of red being all that had remained from his usual outfit, exposing minor wounds, abrasions and bruises that marked the effects of their little training match.

Piccolo flashed one pearly canine in a grin, directing his palm at the other warrior. "Whatever would you do without me."

Laughing out, Goku leapt back up onto his feet, smoothing his palms over his restored clothes. "Thanks!" Reaching out a hand he gave a sociable slap to his friend's broad shoulder. "And true that. Whatever would I do without you?" It was clear he didn't mean just the matter of the restored attire, ever since the two of them first joined forces against Radditz, Piccolo had been an invaluable asset to the team. And to Goku's life in general, the fact that Gohan turned out as well as he'd done was the Namekian's earnings to a crucial extent as well.

Said person gave off a soft "Hmpf," turning his gaze towards the boys who were now immersed into a sparring match of their own. He could see that Trunks was having the slightest edge over Goten in terms of power and strategy as well, but the younger Demi was equally impressive in his continuous push onward.

"I mean it, you know?" Goku's inflection softened, losing the amused notes to it as he directed his eyes towards the friendly showdown as well. "I owe you a lot of thanks, Piccolo."

Casting a side-glance at the other man from the corner of his eyes, Piccolo frowned lightly. "What for, Son?" The solemn, appreciative expression on those features made him feel... weird. It felt like Goku was considering himself deeply indebted to him somehow, and he wasn't sure he really deserved it.

"Looking out for my boys. Especially Gohan." Observing the two sparring demis, there was something distant in the inscrutability of obsidian eyes, both resigning and remorseful in a way. "I was ever only really good at bringing him in danger and leaving him. You were the one keeping him safe and standing by him, guiding him not unlike a real father would." Piccolo had taken the blow and risked his life for Gohan on more than one occasion. Never mind that, he had actually died to save the boy. What moment could Goku really present that came even close?

The tall Namekian chuckled quietly. "My motives weren't so pure when I first took him in, Son. But well. He grew on me." He had no idea how or why it had really happened, but the little monkey boy he'd basically kidnapped to force through rigorous training had sneaked himself into his heart which he hadn't even known to be capable of affection until he'd met the kid. Looking at him now, all grown up and having achieved what he'd achieved... Piccolo couldn't deny that he felt a pride not unlike a real father would, too.

"I can't take credit for Goten, though. Gohan and your wife aside, Vegeta was the one to provide him with the most of guidance and support. I don't know if it was because Goten is so close to Trunks or because he actually truly cared, but as far as I could tell he'd been quite an invaluable support for the boy while you weren't around."

Perhaps it was one of the main reasons Goten and Trunks were so very close in the first place; they were like brothers because they had more or less shared a father and a mentor from the moment they were old enough to train. Granted, Vegeta's methods were strict, hard and unforgiving but he seemed to have been doing something right because both boys respected and adored him equally much.

"Vegeta, huh." Goku mused out softly. "Then I suppose I owe him thanks as well." His fellow kinsman, possibly the only one he had left. "If only I knew how to really approach him. It seems no matter what I say or do, he's just perpetually annoyed with me."

Not that he couldn't understand the reasons why, but somewhere he had hoped that similar to Piccolo, Vegeta would eventually warm up to him after everything they've been through. From his once greatest enemy, Piccolo had developed into one of his closest friends and he would have very much wished the same to happen with Vegeta. All the more so because the man was quite likely the last of his brethren; they shared the same blood, were of the same race extinct as it may be.

"He's Vegeta. He's always annoyed with everything, or so he would want people to believe." It was a defense mechanism Piccolo could relate to quite a lot. If you always seemed like you were angry and aggressive or just generally aloof and abrasive, people were most likely to leave you alone. Sometimes it didn't necessarily mean you had no desire to be friends with them, sometimes it just meant that you didn't know how. Much like Piccolo himself, Vegeta had once been a stranger to many human customs and an enemy to everybody on the planet. The process of adapting to an entirely different culture and set of circumstances was hard. Changing who you were for the better was hard.

"Give him a little bit more time. He never says it out loud but if you look closely, you can see how much he loves Bulma and Trunks. He cares about your family and a selective few of us as well as this planet. He's just more comfortable with people believing the opposite. That makes you less vulnerable and considering his past and the sheer size of his ego, vulnerability has got to be the thing he hates the most."

Vegeta's attitude and behavior was working flawlessly well in most cases, but Piccolo wasn't as easily thrown off. Mostly because Vegeta and he had quite a bit in common, and he recognized himself in many a thing the other man did and said. It probably was the same for the Saiyan elite as well, the two of them had never really had trouble getting along. There was some sort of mute understanding of each other between them, which made it easier for either of them to just be himself around one another. Goku on the other hand, was everything Vegeta was not and they collided like fire and ice over and over again.

"Want my advice?"

Goku nodded with an insightful smile. "Always." The things Piccolo was talking about made perfect sense. As they did 99 per cent of the time when his former nemesis delineated something and not heed his words of wisdom would be a stupid thing to do in all and any situation.

"Challenge him to a sparring match. I don't think you guys ever really had one just for the sake of fun and training." Whenever a confrontation between the two full-blooded Saiyans happened, it was something serious; like to-the-death serious. They had never really done anything together that might have allowed them to bond and if you wanted to bond with Vegeta in what way ever, the initiative had to be yours and it was best done through the only thing the older Saiyan held in the highest esteem - fighting.

"He's too prideful to ever refuse, and battle really is the only thing you can get closer to him in all and any meaning possible. Maybe an unpressured, friendly fight would smooth the edges out a little bit between you two." He didn't know if that would work for sure because Vegeta was hardly ever predictable in any way, but hey, it was worth a shot. Bulma and Trunks had had quite an influence on the Saiyan prince, and the years of spending time with Goku's son might have already evened out some creases in that regard as well.

"Sounds like a plan. I just hope the both of us won't end up complete wrecks after that spar. Friendly or not, I doubt he's gonna hold back." Not that Vegeta ever really did that in a fight to begin with, but especially in a brawl with Goku the older Saiyan was particularly prone to letting his temper take over.

Piccolo smirked. "Bring a couple of Senzu along. Or teleport your asses to the Lookout, Dende will help out." Heavy damage, yes; but he didn't really believe a match like that would end with either of those two actually dying. After all the trouble they went through, even Vegeta would know to control any possible outburst well enough.

Goku laughed out. "Will do."

"Oh, and Son?"

"Yeah?"

"You're welcome."

The corner of his mouth twitching upwards into a congenial grin, Goku didn't reply to that. There was not much to be said, this entire day had been proof enough that nothing between him and Piccolo had really changed. They were still good friends, no hard feelings had. Little by little, pebble by pebble, the stone of guilt and regret on his stout shoulders was crumbling away, with every person who so warmly and readily welcomed him back into their lives. He could not have been more happier to be alive again.

They went for another round with the boys and eventually even managed to get Gohan away from his studies for a team match where team one consisted of Gohan and his mentor and the second of Goku and two adorable little squirts. The teams turned out quite evenly matched, and it had certainly been a blast for everybody involved. No Senzus had been required by the end of it but all five of them looked pretty roughened up as they finally called it a day once broad sunlight turned to evening dimness.

Piccolo had to admit that fighting side by side with Gohan, grown up as he now was, had been quite an experience, too. The boy had certainly matured, not only as a person but also as a combatant; there was far more confidence and some sort of... quiet poise in his style now. Goku had definitely improved over the years as well, which was no surprise yet still Piccolo sensed that the earth-raised Saiyan had long not shown the peak of his power. He was sure none of the boys had noticed but during one particularly intense moment, he had almost sensed his friend's energy spike to a completely different aura, it's presence almost overwhelming even for the fraction of a second that he'd manage to catch of it. It had stunned him and brought him out of focus for a moment long enough for Goku and his two tiny team mates to recompose and shake off the momentary disadvantage.

Gohan had remarked with mild amusement that it wasn't like his mentor to commit an error like that, but the way Goku had glanced at him, Piccolo was sure the other man might have guessed the reason for the Namekian's brief stupefaction. Not that long after their match came to an end with no apparent victor emerging but all participants being satisfied with the outcome regardless. Goten und Trunks were due to be in bed for school tomorrow and Gohan actually as well - exam weeks were coming before the summer break, plus he was really looking forward to seeing Videl again tomorrow so the next day could hardly come fast enough for him.

Piccolo and Goku went for one more round for good old time's sake, so overall he thought the training today to have been more than productive and effective. Sure, he couldn't really match up to Son's strength in the final battle of the day, but the workout and the experience gathered were well worth it. Fighting a Super Saiyan wasn't an easy task, particularly since Goku knew well enough not to hold back because otherwise Piccolo would have taken offense to that. Consequently he was pretty worn out and sore now, his cape covering most of his smaller and bigger injuries while the satisfactory sting of aching muscles coursed throughout his body on his sedate flight back to the Lookout.

He had to say that it definitely had benefits to have Son back, at least now he would have an almost-always available sparring partner to hone his skills and pass his time. That aside the young Saiyan warrior wasn't a bad interlocutor either and it felt good to finally have somebody to just sit down and talk with. Or just sit down and listen to, because Goku had much to tell and Piccolo had an interest in knowing the things he had to tell of - about the Otherworld, about his training, about his cruse through the galaxy - since they really hadn't had much time to chat about any of it during the entire android and Cell fiasco - and thus possible places Jion could be at, who he might be and what he might want with Lynn in particular.

So overall, having Earth's repeated savior was doing not only the man's family but Piccolo a lot of good as well, all the more so since Gohan barely had time for socializing with anybody outside his school anymore, Goten and Trunks liked to stick together and Vegeta was a loner, spare for the times he was training with the boys and Piccolo really didn't connect to anybody else of their group as well as to any of the Saiyans, full-blooded or not.

Having talked about Lynn with Goku automatically had got him thinking about her now on his flight back, she and her inexplicable appeal to him was still an absolute mystery. He really didn't have much to go on, observing other people in relationships didn't teach you much in terms of knowing how that kind of attraction was supposed to feel like and whether there was such a thing present to begin with. Maybe it was just some sort of... He didn't know. Maybe friendships with females were supposed to feel different compared to friendships with males. Piccolo didn't really have any female friends, Bulma and Chichi were more like... good acquaintances and he had quite never engaged in any one-on-one, personal conversations with either of them. Lynn was different in the sense that she just... was. In just two days they had managed to get closer than he had ever gotten to any other girl or woman and perhaps that was supposed to be a different perception as opposed to getting closer to men.

Ah. This was making his head hurt and he decided to leave that mental struggle of his thoughts be for today especially since the physical fighting of today had exhausted him more than enough. Thus he chose to meditate for an hour or two, in fact sufficiently successfully this time around. The cover of the night had blanketed the surroundings well by the time he decided to go to bed. It wasn't like he really needed to sleep per se: much like eating, that human necessity didn't apply to the Namekian race. Nevertheless, having grown up and lived all his life on Earth, Piccolo had developed a habit for sleeping when he had the time and was in the mood for it.

It wasn't as much for the purpose of resting as it was for the sake of either passing some time or more importantly: dreaming. Piccolo enjoyed having dreams; it was an interesting concept and came very close to meditating and self-reflection. Since dreams stemmed form the subconscious, it was an insightful way of diving into the own passive psyche to learn about what might be preoccupying him deep down without him even taking notice of it. It was a great way to get a peek at any underlying issues you might have had, the abstract way your mind perceived certain things and events, the hidden secrets of the own thoughts and emotions.

Also, he had noticed that while injured his body tended to heal faster if he slept. Overall sleeping seemed like an entirely beneficial undertaking for him to do tonight. He had an own bedroom on the Lookout, even though there wasn't too much in it. Only a bed, really, he had no need for closets or desks or commodes or whatever else humans tended to put into their recreative chambers. He wasn't in here too often anyway. He did have a chair near the bedside for his clothes and a tall coat rack by the entrance for his cape and turban. Mentioned items of attire were first thoughtfully reduced in their heavy weight because he had forgotten to do that the first few couple of times, which resulted in a couple of broken racks.

Lifting his pristine cape off over his shoulders after having put the turban on one of the hooks he let the long flow of white material hang on another, turning around and being in the process of undoing the belt of his purple gi while approaching the bed, even though his hands froze in the middle of the task when he caught a glimpse at said piece of furniture in front of him. There was a figure under the covers that most certainly had not been there when he had first entered the room and since he had never noticed their appearance and felt no ki signature now as well, it could only be...

He pulled the blanket down just a little bit, revealing a very familiar, very pretty face. Well. Hello there.

The slender, sleeping being woke up not a second later as though having perceived his presence nearby, snapping her amber eyes open, looking pale and scared not unlike somebody who had just woken up from some horrific nightmare, staring up at him for a small moment of silence.

"Hey." He said softly as to not disturb the hush and agitate her any further, watching the distress slowly melt away from her expression as she came to recognize him.

"Hey..." Lynn whispered in reply. "I'm not where I'm supposed to be again... am I?" She remembered falling asleep in her guestroom bed in Bulma's house and this was certainly no longer it.

He chuckled lightly in mild amusement. "Well. Currently, you're in my bed." This whole situation was... He didn't even really know how to react.

The petite brunette began scrambling around in agitated haste, stemming her hands into the mattress and pushing her torso up, the blanket sliding along her side to the graceful curve of her pajama-covered hip. "I am _so_ sorry...!" He could see her pillaring arms and her frail body tremble, quite certain that embarrassment wasn't that which made her quiver so. "I didn't mean to intrude like this... I'm sorry..." She looked and sounded beside herself, almost as though on the verge of tears.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it." Keeping his voice quiet and calm, he suppressed the urge to reach out and touch her, wanting to soothe or reassure her somehow but he didn't know if it was a good idea considering her current condition.

She tried to hide her gaze and face, dropping her head with her long, chestnut hair slipping along her shoulder to serve a silky curtain.

"Are you alright, Lynn?" He posed a gently spoken question, not wanting to be intrusive but at same time, concerned.

"I..." She didn't manage to give an honest answer, but couldn't bring herself up to lie either. Her head was still spinning, filled with too many unpleasant images, her chest still tightened with too many upchoking emotions.

"Do you want me to leave?" Maybe she needed some space and a minute to herself. It almost felt like he might be encroaching on something too private to share with any outside observer, even though purely factually, the one intruding on privacy was technically her.

Lynn lifted her head swiftly, her frightened gaze finding to him with a clear plea. "No...!" She exhaled urgently in desperate beseech. "Please don't." Out of all things in the world the one she wanted least of all right now was to be left alone with all of... this.

"Alright." He didn't really have a clue about how to sound comforting or supportive, but he tried to inject that note into the smooth depth of his voice regardless. "I'll stay."

She relaxed a bit again, shifting to sit up in bed and lean her back against the wall same bed stood at, drawing her knees and the blanket up to her chest. A moment of silence passed in which she collected her bearing back together, reinforced in the uneasy task by the perception of his presence close by.

"I... was having a horrible nightmare." She finally spoke up, barely above a whisper, sounding and looking... broken. Forsaken, almost.

"I could tell." It was a simple truth he offered, where was the meaning in trying to gloss the obvious over anyway?

"I wanted it to end. So badly... I wanted to be somewhere else, somewhere far away from it. Somewhere safe." Escape those pictures. Escape the memories, escape her entire past. Go to a warm place of comfort and protection, something she had never really had before. Until now...? "I think... I think that's why..."

She stopped but Piccolo could guess the ending to that sentence easily enough. That was why she was here.

He eased himself down onto the edge of the bed by its food, mindful to keep a comfortable distance between them. "You think that is the reason you subconsciously teleported here?" Again. Was she having a nightmare yesterday as well, he wondered. She hadn't looked quite as freaked out then, just surprised and shocked upon waking up. But it almost seemed like her mind's subliminal reaction to any sort of distress was to bring her to, well. To him. That was quite strange to think about and somehow... sweet, really.

Aislynn nodded lightly. "Yes. I... I feel safest when you're around." Gods, saying it like that sounded... stupid and ridiculous. She barely knew him... but at the same time, she knew him better than anybody else in her life, on personal level at least. She hadn't really talked to anybody the way she had to him yesterday, just as two normal living beings on equal level. From person to person... and the very first words he had spoken to her would also keep ringing out in her head whenever she felt that fear and anxiety creep up on her. _You're safe here._ Almost like her brain now interpreted it in the way of - you're safe _here_. With me. Still, it must be so odd for him to have her more or less... stalk him like that just because of a few words he'd said and the few conversations they'd had.

"That sounds so..." Idiotic? Inappropriate? She didn't really know how to phrase it, so all that happened was an apology. "I'm sorry..."

His lips curled a placid, genial smile. "You don't have to be. I just... Well." He didn't really knew what to do with this... knowledge. Having somebody rely on you to ease their mind and take away their fears, rely on you to make them feel safe and unthreatened... He hadn't really had any experience with that kind of task before. "Thank you, I guess. For trusting me so much."

He didn't know what exactly it was about him that was managing to give her that feeling of safety but the essence of it was... unique in perception. To have somebody rely on you for protection like this was a new experience but in was also a... nice one, in a sense.

Lynn shook her head slightly. "No. I'm the one who should be thankful. Everybody here is so kind to me... I've never been treated so nicely before... It makes me wish-" It would have always been this way. Why hadn't she been born here, amidst these people? Lived here with them, around them right from the start? "I keep intruding on your space, too, and yet you're not mad." By all rights, he should be and yet he was being so thoughtful and understanding instead. It caused her heart to ache in some odd, bitter-sweet kind of way.

"Don't worry about it. If it makes you feel more at ease you're welcome to stay here tonight." After all... what was there to it, really? She was just a mistreated, frightened girl looking for some shelter and security. There wasn't much Piccolo could offer up to anybody, but that, he could offer to her. Make a small difference in the world, influence something in a positive way. It might not matter on the grand scale of things, but it mattered to her and it mattered to him. Wasn't that enough?

"But what about you?" Gazing at him, her eyes almost seemed like dark-shadowed gold, reflecting the glimmer of moonlight to underline the innocence in them, its frail beauty looking for protection.

"I don't really need to sleep. Or a bed for that matter. It's just something I do on occasion to pass the time and dream." Could you call it a hobby? If, then probably a very peculiar one.

"You like dreaming?" The idea was almost abstract to Lynn. She hated her need to sleep, and she hated having to dream, too. If only she could stay awake forever; that would be wonderful.

Piccolo could believe the genuine distaste for the activity in question, it swung quite openly in the silver melody of her quiet voice. He on the other hand... "Yes. It's like a different form of meditation to me, I suppose." The realm of his own ghosts, past and present, had never really given him much trouble. Then again, he guessed his life up until now had never really been a particularly tragic one either.

"I see... " She wondered if she would ever come to see it that way. As something recreational, let alone... insightful. "I hate dreaming. I wish I didn't need to sleep, either." That would be amazing. Although probably, eventually, it would likely start to be intricate to find ways to spend all the extra time. That got her wondering; what did he do in his spare time? Or even, what did he dream about? Since it seemed to be something pleasant for him.

"You should be good for tonight, though, right? With me around."

She stared at him for a moment, blinking. "You mean, you would...?" Stay here? With her? For the sake of her peaceful rest?

Piccolo shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah. I'll stick around." His lips then twitched a small grin, briefly baring one pearly canine. "I mean if I left, I'd probably find you right there with me again just a few moments after you fell asleep anyway."

She blushed, unfurling her arms from around her knees and nervously tucking the strands of her long hair behind her ears. "I'm sorry..." She couldn't promise that she wouldn't unwillingly do exactly that. Gods, she really was not unlike a stalker, wasn't she? Involuntarily, uncontrollably, but still.

He laughed out softly; the thought of it was both adorable and... heart-warming, in a way. "I'm just teasing. I don't mind." Strangely enough, he didn't.

Finally, a frail smile came to adorn Lynn's pretty lips as well. "I don't know how to thank you..." She already felt so much more at ease, the heavy, oppressive emotions brought onto her by her horrendous nightmares only a foggy mist of meek discomfort in the background of her exhausted mind.

"You don't have to. Come on, lay down. Get some rest."

She followed that considerate instruction, slipping into a lying position on her side underneath the blanket again. He just remained sitting there by the foot of the bed, feeling her small feet shift behind him as she settled more comfortably beneath the covers on.

"Goodnight..." Lynn whispered softly into darkness traced by the cobalt rays of the moon high above, receiving the same wishing in return:

"Goodnight."

Soon after, her long, black lashes meet together in a fine mesh to shut out her sight as she relaxed completely - more quickly than ever before. For the first time in a long time unafraid to allow her eyes to close and the perception of comfy drowsiness to engulf her. The softest of content sighs fluttered off her cherry lips, her mind drifting off to sleep with its bodily wraps feeling safe and comfy.

Crossing his arms in front of his sturdy chest, Piccolo eased his eyes shut as well, listening to her breaths that soon evened out into a sound, steady rhythm. It was sweet, how trustful she was, how faithfully she relied on him to keep her nightmares away. _She_ was sweet. Downright adorable and he found himself hopelessly drawn to that artless, innocent cuteness; just as he found himself more at ease with her here, too. Her company was bringing with it a sense of serenity he hadn't ever encountered in quite such an intricate facet. It was strange. Strange, a bit unsettling and yet... pleasant. Sheesh, what was he getting himself into with this girl?

He didn't even- Were Namekians supposed to be attracted to anybody like that? Sure, they knew the platonic kind of love from kinship and friendship, but romance? Was... this what this was? Or was about to become? He couldn't compare the feeling to any other emotion he had encountered before as the person that he was. Either way, he wasn't coming any further in his deliberations, only going in circles inside his head so he decided to simply... let it be. Let it continue, and see what would come of it. The only way to find out what could be at the end of this long, winding road was to keep on walking it.


	10. Helping Hand

On we go! I had fun writing this chapter, though for a warning: there are a few rather gory parts so you have been warned. I focused on providing some more back story and reinforcing the foundation of the major plot points, and I'd say it will be another two, maybe three chapters before some real action will ensue. I like the pacing of the story so far and the stage is almost set ^_^

Also, since it's been pointed out a few times: don't worry, I know my source material =) I watched the anime and I've done my research, too; last chapter had never implied in any way that Goten was stronger than Piccolo. That would indeed be ridiculous, because while semi-Saiyans Goten and Trunks are still kids and neither of them would yet match up to Piccolo's strength.

I think there might have been a misunderstanding of the paragraph in question (because admittedly, the sentence structure was a bit complex and while it all made perfect sense in my head it might not have been as clear to some readers, for which I apologize), so I went ahead and changed it up a little bit more to avoid confusing anybody else. In essence, what was meant was that while Piccolo was inferior in _Goku_ in terms of power levels, and that that disadvantage was being even out by Goten since the two of them have been teaming up.

Regarding the question of how much power Goku had been using while sparring, I'll leave it up to you. Personally, I'd imagine he was Super 2 when facing Piccolo and Goten. And yes, you're right, he almost went Super 3 when facing off against Piccolo and Gohan, I just didn't state it straight out because it was written from Piccolo's perspective and unlike us he yet has no idea about that form even existing.

And oh, you can bet that Goku's sparring match with Vegeta will most definitely happen (I have some nice plans for that one -laughs-) so you can look forward to that.

I'm also very happy that you liked the story, the chapter, the characters and the bit of Eighteen/Krillin in the beginning there, thank you very much for your comments! I'm delighted to know Lynn is in your good graces as well, introducing own characters is always a tricky task. Most fandoms are pretty scarred from the influx of Mary Sues and Gary Stues by now and are thus very mistrustful towards OCs -laughs-

So you're most welcome, I will continue to try and keep this fiction as mature as it seems to be.

I think that covers most of the guest reviews, everybody else should have received a PM by now =)

Thanks again for the support and appreciation to all of you, it's always a nice motivational push for me and my Muses 3! And now enjoy the next installment; off goes:

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

**Helping Hand**

Nightmares were a frightful enemy, even to those who had faced down actual foes numerous times throughout their life. The problem lay within the concept of bad dreams itself; once you had defeated an adversary, they were gone, but the enemies in your mind could attack you again and again no matter how many times you'd prevail over them.

Vegeta's nightmares were usually blood and screams and darkness, faces of his victims stirred with the faces of his enemies, planets falling apart and bodies grinded into dust. He didn't fear the dead and the dying, none of them but two. Even inside of his dreams, losing either his lover or his child was the one thing he couldn't bear to experience and if the emotion was this intense in an imaginative scenario he would never want to know what it might feel like in real life. The most terrible picture was to see them murdered by his very own hands, by his past self that cared nothing at all for anything and anybody, driven by anger and revenge.

He knew he wasn't that person anymore, the one without attachments, the one without responsibilities, the one without bonds. Yet it was a stigma not easily thrown off, a mark that may have faded from his soul but its imprint would never be gone completely. Tonight he'd watched himself crush Bulma in the humongous palm of his Oozaru self and stand by impassively while Cell tore Trunks apart, not the boy's future self but that innocent, small child who was his to protect. He knew he would never let any of that happen, however in his nightmares he had no control over the movies playing on his mental cinema screen. If he was lucky he would wake up before the nefarious culmination of those cinematics.

He was rarely ever lucky.

Having awoken in the middle of the night with those horrific pictures stuck in his head, he couldn't even think about going back to sleep. So he got up and slipped into a shirt and a pair of pants, leaving Bulma with a kiss to her forehead and briefly looking in on Trunks before going downstairs. The Saiyan elite had a favorite spot in the house, a small recreation area in the far back of the ground floor. Half of that room wall was glass, presenting a view out into the yard and same view was that which he was looking out on right now, sitting on a small loveseat with his arms crossed in front of his steadily fluctuating chest. He watched the not yet quite full moon and the starlit firmament surrounding it, each of the sparkling dots representing a planet somewhere far, far, far away.

Very rarely, one of those lights would blink and extinguish its glow and he wondered what might have happened. Did it explode? Got destroyed? Vanished because of some other horrible reason? Had it been populated? Had another race been wiped from the face of the universe? Just the same, sometimes another dot would blink and light up. A newly born star; how many years, decades, centuries, millennia would it need to grow, evolve and perhaps bring up a new galactic species? What would it look like? How was it that a planet's destruction could happen within a mere minute, but the conception of one took billions of years, and yet the scale was still in balance?

Or maybe he had it all of wrong. He was neither a scientist, nor an astronomer nor any kind of specialist for anything except for fighting. And killing. That could be a science in itself, too...

Registering a familiar ki entering the room, he refocused his vision from the moon and the stars to the gorgeous little body that came to stand in front of him not that much later, clad in a black, knee-long satin robe, the slick material silky and cool against the skin of his arms which wrapped themselves around a slim waist the moment that slender figure sat down onto his lap.

Sometimes he was convinced that Bulma had some sort of sixth sense when it came to him, or perhaps that was simply how well she really knew and understood him. She didn't say anything, just weaved her arms around his neck and pillowed her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and relaxing against him, simply... there. She was there and he was there; they were here, now, together. A real and solid fact that nobody could take away from him in this one moment, a real and solid fact that counteracted anything his nightmares might have shown him. It was all there was - him and her, and yet it was much more than could ever be expressed.

Lightly, Vegeta leaned his cheek against Bulma's smooth forehead, listening to her soft breaths, feeling the barely perceptible motion of her torso as it fluctuated with rhythmic in- and exhales within his firm, protective hold, the warmth that radiated off her and mingled with his own. The delicate fragrance that clung to her, the fragile life that coursed through her entire being. She fell asleep on him within mere minutes, and he sat there for a while longer, until his eyes ultimately found to a close as well, his consciousness slipping back into his dream world that would remain undisturbed for the rest of the night.

Nightmares were a frightful enemy, and the Saiyan prince was not the only one to fall victim to them tonight. All the way over at the house in the middle of the woods, his kinsman woke up to the feel of somebody being there. Or rather, something being... out of place, almost, because at night in your bedroom you had a certain atmosphere that didn't change much from day to day. So whenever there was a disruption in the usual, the habitual, the familiar; you perceived it even subconsciously, all the more so if you were somebody like Goku.

He opened his eyes and peered into the darkness, even though the moonlight was shining through the windows his sight needed a moment to adjust. The warmth behind him reassured him that Chichi was right there, snuggled up to his sturdy back with her slender arm draped across his abs. The disruption was right in front of him, standing at the bedside and it took him but a second to recognize the ki.

"Goten...?" Voice quiet and groggy, he reached up for the nightstand, hitting the switch of the small lamps installed above the headrest of their marriage bed. "What's wrong, champ?" Soft, yellow light spilled from above, pleasant on drowsy eyes as he stemmed his forearm to the mattress and propped himself up on it.

"Dad..." He barely caught a glimpse at the tear-streaked countenance of his youngest before the boy lunged at him, snapping his arms around his neck and burying that face and its brokenhearted expression against the crook of his neck, crying.

"Hey. Hey, calm down." Pressing the tiny bundle of distress closer gingerly, Goku smoothed a hand over those unruly black spikes, feeling Chichi sit up in bed as well. She looked a bit dazed from the sudden awakening, but her inflection was wakeful and concerned as she intoned a worried question:

"What happened?"

Good question indeed. "I don't know." He replied, focusing his attention on his son again, cooing to the young demi. "Shhh. It's okay, Goten. What is it?"

It took the little one a bit to calm down enough to be able to speak through his messy breaths and the uncontrollable, sporadic sobs. "You died...! In m-my dream just now, you died...! There was Raz, and J-Jion and h-he looked like a monster! They killed you!"

Wide eyes filled with salty moisture that rolled in tiny, brilliant droplets down reddened, cold cheeks drilled their aghast stare into him as Goten lifted his head, his voice cracking then and there.

"That won't happen t-though, right, dad? Nobody can kill you! You're the stron-ngest in the universe, you're invincible! Radditz and Cell only got you because you sacrificed yours-self for the planet! You won't do that again, will you? You won't die again! Promise me you won't die again!"

He had no time to respond or interject as more words poured out of that small, pressured chest not unlike those fearful tears were doing. "I'll train really-really hard and become so strong I will be able to kill any bad guy, and you won't have to sacrifice yourself anymore!"

Goten's small hands gripped tightly at the staunchness of his father's broad shoulders, defiant and desperate alike. "You can't die again, dad; I need you, you're mine!" His ki was flaring unstably, spiking almost to the yellow of a Supersaiyan here and there with the dogged determination and puerile selfishness of an offspring who could not bear to part from their parent because that was how much they loved and needed them in their lives.

Truth spoken with the voice of a child; Chichi's features softened with the heartfelt sympathy of a mother and the deep affection of a wife, watching her husband hold their frightened son close and whisper words of comfort and firm promises to the distraught boy with the faintest hint of a bittersweet smile on her lips. They did need him and he was theirs; she would want to say the same if she'd know it was a vow she could keep, however she was a mere human with a bit of extraordinary strength. She could neither support Goku nor protect him, yet their sons... Their sons had that power, that potential. They had the possibilities to watch out for their father, to back him up, to make a difference in battle; a difference big enough for him to not have to offer his own life up for the sake of others ever again. They needed but the willpower for it, and she had seen it burning brightly in both of them, not unlike it was blazing in Goten's tear-filled eyes tonight.

"...nobody will be dying anytime soon, you got me?" The quiet melody of Goku's light, masculine voice was underlined by resolute notes, carrying the firmness and security of that sincere sentiment. "Not me, not you, not anybody. Don't worry so much for your old man, it's not your time to be watching out for me just yet. I will take care of myself, I promise."

"You won't let anybody kill you...?" Goten uttered a question against the curvature of his father's shoulder and neck where he held his face hidden at again.

Goku's lips twitched a tiny smile. "No. No, I won't." He pressed a kiss to the top of those raven-black strands, feeling the tension melt away from the small, trustful existence in his arms, relieved to see his son calming down.

Reaching out a loving hand, Chichi cupped her husband's cheek, enticing him to look at her and the affectionate expression on her pretty face, brushing her thumb against the handsome contour of his features. He was a wonderful man, and she loved him. In moments like these, she would realize it so very clearly again and anew.

"Dad...?" Goten sounded drowsy and exhausted, appearing entirely comfortable in his current position.

Extending his arm to hit the lights off, Goku responded with a gentle: "Yeah?" He was halfway able to guess what might come next and Chichi seemed to as well, already lifting the blanket up.

"Can I sleep here tonight...?"

The earth-raised Saiyan chuckled softly, twisting his torso to lay the boy down in the middle of the bed. "Sure, champ." He slipped into a lying position himself little later and Goten scooted closer immediately after, sighing in contentment and relaxation when his father's safeguarding arm settled around him protectively.

"Night, dad... Night, mom..." He mumbled, more asleep than awake, barely hearing the tender "Goodnight," from his mother and the quiet "Sleep tight," from his father.

Leaning over the precious, already dozing little being nestled between them, Chichi found her husband's lips to touch in a fond, prolonged kiss. "Night, love," she whispered upon parting again, hearing a gentle "Night, Chi," in reply as she settled back down on her side of the bed before wrapping a caring arm around their son as well. Tonight the little one would be well-sheltered and well-guarded against any evil visions in his dreams, enwrapped in the steadfast warmth of his parents as their anchoring presence would safely guide him through the remainder of the night.

Nightmares were a frightful enemy, and on this particular day there was another pair that would be affected by the horrors that could haunt your sleep. As it was, he really hadn't mean to do this. It had happened rather unintentionally; he had merely been sitting there with his eyes closed, listening to her breathe, mindful not to miss any disturbances in the even pace of her sound in- and exhales until he registered the spike of unrest from her, accompanied by soft sounds of distress. He'd gotten up and halted by the bedside, glancing at her pretty face, those gorgeous features framed by chestnut strands in an expression of torment. Easing back down onto the edge of the bed, he was near enough to reach out a hand and touch those silky wisps, shifting long fingers through them from the temple upward. And then, just like that, it happened. Just like that he had been pulled into her dream. Or rather, her nightmare.

Piccolo hadn't entered another person's mind in a long time, last time he'd done it was when Gohan was still a child and had been tortured by bad dreams after his father's death, induced by the burdens of guilt and the feeling of lack. He'd used to anchor Gohan throughout those dreadful dreams, helping the boy turn them for the better and make his nights easier to go through. But he had always done that with intention and on his own free will, he had never before been pulled into another person's subconsciousness involuntarily. Thus he was entirely and utterly astounded to suddenly find himself amidst Lynn's dream world, sharing it with her as she seemed to relive what first appeared to be actual memories.

_She lay on the ground, clad in her flimsy lilac dress and with her hands chained up above her head. It was dark, chilly and clammy in the dungeon cell, and her heart was racing, beating somewhere in her throat as she heard the footsteps approaching the door. Tomorrow was her birthday. The day he had said he would make her ability his own, whatever that might have implied._

_The key turned and he entered, accompanied by his lead scientist. She had always been scared of that man; the things he was said to be doing to his study objects were blood-curling._

_"Well, I hope you're ready, little A. This is where our fun begins." She hated that pet name Jion had for her. The deprecative tone of his voice when he called her that, the mockery and superiority in the cold stare of his crimson eyes. She knew it was not his original eye color; he had stolen it as he had done with so many other things. It made him look more fearful and imperial, so he'd say._

_She tried to scuttle away as they approached her, even though the chains wouldn't let her get far. A scared whimper fled her lips as they crouched to either side of her, the tip of an injection needle sparkling up in the stripe of light falling in from the open door._

_"Now hold still please, would you." The doctor cooed to her, with sickeningly faked sweetness. Jion reached out to place a hand on her chest, holding her down with evident ease, also as she began trashing about due to the horrible pain piercing her midsection after the needle had been ruthlessly jammed into her stomach to the very hilt._

_The pain was bad but the fear was worse. "What have you done to me?" She gasped, scrambling away into the corner of the cell once let go of, shaking from head to toe and hearing that behated, low, raspy, vile laugh. He didn't reply, letting the doctor give her a small explanation._

_"Why, injected you with a special life form that will absorb your ability as it matures within you, of course. Once it is ready, we will extract it out of you; together with your powers." _

_So that was how... For a moment in time, the realization that struck her overclouded the ghastly fact she'd just been told. That was how he was becoming perpetually stronger and seemed to be able to do so many unusual things. He was stealing powers from others. Probably not only for himself but for his closest subordinates, too. Raz and Jagga and Horace... Now it made so much more sense, all those bizarre things they could do. _

_"Then I will consume it, making your nifty skills my own. Teleportation will come in more than handy on many an occasion, I imagine." The monarch of Jigessar supplemented with another dark laugh, his voice loud and derisive in its hollowed out baritone._

_Lynn was petrified. A life form, maturing within her? Was there now something living... inside her? She felt abruptly nauseated and she wasn't sure if it was just her shocked imagination or a real perception as she felt tingling motion in her midsection. Please, please no. Sick. She felt so sick, doubling over but all that she managed was dry retching, having had no food for a good couple of days. They left and she was alone in the dark again, alone with... whatever it was that was __**maturing**__ within her._

_The perception alone was weird for her still virginal body as it tried to reject this wicked mockery of an immaculate conception. Spare for the occasional smacking and a whiplash as a form of punishment whenever something she'd done was unsatisfactory, there had been no other physical abuse from her owner or his subordinates. The noble folk of Jigessar would never engage in any kind of intercourse with a slave, even touching one except when absolutely necessary was considered a disgrace. There were enough low-class, native Jigessarians to exploit in that regard and gods knew Jion and his posse had enough concubines between them to use and abuse to their liking all day every day. _

_She starred appalled at her yet flat belly covered by the thin linen of her shabby dress, feeling tears begin to spill amply from her eyes, trickling in thick, moist trails across her face, the salty rivulets warm only for a moment before turning cold and chilly in their slide along her smooth skin._

_Not even an hour passed before she recognized a bump developing on her midsection, the sensation absolutely horrendous as it grew bigger and bigger with every passing sixty-minutes cycle. The fear was mixing up with disgust and terror, making her head cloudy and herself nigh delusional from the realization that this... something... was beginning to move around within her, feeling it writhe inside her, right there underneath her skin. She felt weak and dizzy and ill in body and mind, not even noticing that underneath her breath, she'd been sobbing and chanting a never-ending mantra of desperate, pleading "Take it out... take it out... take it out..." _

_Please, just... Somebody... Take it out of her... _

_If in those moments she had known the means which her wish would eventually come true by, she might have not wished for it quite as fervently. She lost her consciousness eventually, after this... thing... being... creature... within her began pushing outward, as though trying to claw, rip, dig itself out through her abdominal walls, causing her to succumb to the pain and faint. _

_When she awoke again, she was blinded by garish lights right above her, cutting vilely into her sensitive eyes. She was still chained, only even more tightly this time, fastened by hands and feet atop a table. She jerked her wrists, but the bounds were iron and firm, impossible to break or escape for somebody like her. The pain in her stomach was gone, but she still felt the creature within her. Her dress had been pulled up to her chest, exposing the gross, lumpy disfiguration that was her midsection._

_"Should we administer an anesthetic, my lord?" That was the doctor's voice, coming somewhere from the side, followed by the unsettling clanking of metal instruments. They wouldn't... He wouldn't... Not like this. Please, please not like this. _

_She heard that voice again, the one she loathed so, producing a sinister, cruel chuckle. "No. I would actually love to see her scream and squirm." Torture was one of his favorite pastimes. Yet she had never thought she would once be a victim of it. _

_The doctor's face meanwhile, scrunched up in a disgusting mask of sadistic glee. "Ah, yes. I do enjoy a nice vivisection once in a while."_

_Her blood froze in her veins and the air stilled in her chest, goose bumps covering her skin as a vicious chill seized her, forcing her bound body to start shaking again. He appeared at her side, gazing down at her defenseless figure splayed out before him, making it a point of demonstrating to her the scalpel he held in a professional, delicate grip between his gloved fingers. _

_"Don't worry, I will go extra slow, little bunny, I promise. Wouldn't want to cut too deep too fast and damage that precious, beautiful creature your filthy self is carrying within you, after all."_

_And then, he cut into her. The insanely sharp metal slid through the texture of her skin, flesh and muscle like sharp scissors sliced thin paper, parting the fibers and severing millions of tiny nerve tracts that composed her living body; he worked lightly and carefully like an artist carving upon a canvass, a macabre visionary with a razor. The pain was unimaginable, horrid and agonizing and bloody. She screamed, screamed at the top of her voice and the top of her lungs, every muscle spastic in sporadic spasms, causing her lithe little figure to cringe and arch and bend into impossible shapes atop the table but unable to escape the torment it was being put through. He was being slow indeed, lovingly tracing the long cut along her stomach over and over again to go but an inch deeper every time, making sure she felt the metal glide through parted flesh._

_She cried and bled, cried and pleaded for him to stop, to have mercy, to please, please let it end. But it didn't. He wouldn't listen, and it didn't. No, it only got worse. Once the cuts were done his rubber-gloved hands slipped into them, she perceived him starting to push the flaps of skin asunder, revealing something glossy and squirmy beneath, not that she could really see, blinded by her tears and her pain. A sharp gasp and one more and another, and sweet merciful darkness enwrapped her as she fainted into oblivion, all her thoughts and feelings hiding away into some small, tiny corner within her crippled, overburdened mind. _

_And then... nothing. Only utter silence and absolute darkness, until the abrupt sensation of hot-white pain sliced along her consciousness like an acanthaceous whip. Her lungs sucked in a large amount of oxygen and she snapped her eyes open. She didn't recognize where she was, there was green sky above her and blue grass beneath her and pain, pain, pain, pain, pain. _

_Her limbs were free again and her hands jerked upward, slapping down onto her belly and right into the hot, slick, thick mess of blood that was still seeping out of the surgical cuts there. She felt the edges of parted skin under her crimson-slicked palms and more horrendously... she felt the movement. It was still inside. It was still within her, right there, squirming about in her opened up abdomen. She was in a half-crazed, pain-overloaded delirium and it gave her the insane power with which she dug her fingers into the red, wet warmth of her own body, screaming and trashing and crying and yet clawing into herself deeper and deeper until she gripped that slippery thing and began to pull it out of herself. _

_Out, out, out, she just wanted it out. If she died during this, she didn't care, so long as it came out, out, out of her. She screamed and cried, screamed and cried and pulled and after what had seemed like a never-ending eternity in the deepest circles of hell, she yanked that... that creature, out of herself. She didn't cast a glance at what it was, flinging it to the side and away with all the madness-enhanced, adrenaline-pumped strength her abused, frenzied little body could muster. She heard a splash in the distance, suggesting that it must have landed in liquid. Hopefully, it would drown and sink to the bottom of whatever body of water it was now in, dead and lost forever and soon to be eaten by whatever creatures might inhabit this place, wherever she was. _

_Her blood-covered hands dropped away to either side of her, her breath erratic and shallow, her mind in a complete daze and her consciousness hanging by a thread, everything an indistinct blur in front of her unseeing, tear-filled eyes. The pool of crimson under her midsection kept growing, staining the blue of the grass and soaking into the soil beneath. She just wanted it to be over... Please, somebody, anybody... let this pain end. No more... No more... _

_She lay there bleeding out and with the last of life escaping her, when she realized there was a small frame approaching her with tiny, uncertain steps. The being looked like a child, but had green skin color and a pair of antennae on its otherwise bald head, dressed down in long robes. She had never seen a creature like this before... Nevertheless, with her mind once more near a this time likely fatal eclipse, she gathered up what little power she had left and lifted her hand, reaching for it with a whispered plea on her bloodied lips: "Help... me..." _

_The last image flashing before her eyes was that little green being kneeing beside her, and the warm, alleviating glow streaming from its hands as it held them over the mess of her stomach. _

_Everything around her swirled as the world of actual memories turned into a mangled nightmare, unreal and uncontrollable. She was in a dark place, impenetrable blackness all around her. The chains... they were back around her wrists and the glowing red eyes that suddenly were so impossibly close. She could feel his breath on her skin. No, no, no..._

_... this is where our fun begins..._

_She gasped in miserable throe, the knife that was thrust into her was almost too real of a gruesome sensation. She felt it being jerked higher, parting living flesh._

_... I do enjoy a nice vivisection..._

_Blood pouring out of her as she chocked up some of it through helpless sobs, being gutted like a pig at a slaughter block she didn't even have the strength to struggle anymore. Just suffer through it._

_... scream and squirm..._

_Stop. Stop, stop, please stop..._

_"Lynn. It's not real."_

_Her eyes, nigh blinded by tears, gazed up, seeing a spark of light in the darkness above her. _

_"It's not real, Lynn. You're okay; it's just a nightmare."_

_She knew that voice... The silhouette up above was painfully familiar in its tall, masculine shape, too. Parting her chafed lips, the words escaped in a broken whisper through the metallic taste of blood that filled her mouth. "Help me..." Please, please, somebody... Save her. Help her to escape these terrors._

_"Reach for me. I'll get you out."_

_But she was bound and broken, and her tormentor's leaden presence would barely let her think straight. "I can't..." Sobbing, she still felt the knife as it kept mutilating her. How... how could she make it stop... "I can't..." Please, somebody... just show her how..._

_"You can. Just reach for me. Reach, Lynn."_

_She didn't know how or why her right hand was free again, but she did that which the urgent, guiding voice told her to do. She stretched her slender arm out, up towards that supportive presence, her fingers curling, reaching, trying to grasp for him, praying, hoping, begging..._

Snapping her eyes open to the nightly darkness of the room she last remembered falling asleep in, she found herself in the careful but firm embrace of strong arms, her own wrapped tightly around a fair neck. Her breath was a sporadic mess, causing her chest to fluctuate erratically while the tears of terror kept pearling out of her widely opened, unseeing eyes, her slim shoulders jerking with sharp, jagged gasps for air.

"Easy... Easy. It's okay. You're okay."

The smoothly deep, soothing voice near her ear, she recognized immediately. Piccolo... He was sitting on the edge of the bed and she must have lunged upward in her mental and physical reach for him, now halfway in his lap with her tear-streaked face buried against the front of his broad shoulder. Shaking violently, it was so hard to calm down, causing her to clutch at him all the harder, desperate for comfort and protection.

"Easy. It's alright, Lynn. It's alright; you're safe." Trying to hush her distress, he wished he could have been able to interfere sooner.

However it was plain too hazardous to simply invade on the flow of a person's recollections when that which they dreamed through were actual memories, because the things they were seeing had already happened to them and were firmly saved in the depths of the mind. They were impossible to alter unless you wanted to risk messing up the individual's psyche entirely, forcing it to confuse real recollections with something that hadn't happened; screwing with legit, real memories was screwing with a person's head and the damage could be devastating. It was why he'd stayed away while her state of sleep was forcing her to relive past occurrences that had really happened to her; it had not been easy to just stand by and look on while she suffered in such overwhelming anguish, but thankfully a window of opportunity had presented itself the moment her mind started to warp the images into a nightmare.

Subconsciously - and sometimes even consciously - when a person was having a nightmare, they already knew that the events happening weren't real, they were usually simply unable take control of their haywire going mind that would start blending real happenings into an imaginary horror scenario because of whatever emotions were prompting it - typically bottled up fear, anxiety, the darkest thoughts and emotions. It would start putting random pictures of past and present into a ghastly dream like pieces of a puzzle. That was the moment he was able to project an image of himself into the mess of it, at last able to reach out to her through the established mental link and help her take control of her nightmare, to change its flow and find a way out. And now he had her clinging to him, this vulnerable, terrified little bundle of agony, severely trembling and softly crying bitter tears into his chest.

He still had no idea how he had ended up inside her mind to begin with, it almost seemed as though it had simply sucked him in the moment he had touched her. That left him wondering if it was in some way connected to her teleportation ability, whatever her race and species had been, they seemed to have most of their powers linked to their mentality. The disturbances in her abilities would appear pretty logical in that case, too; if your powers stemmed from your mind and your mind was afflicted, it was natural that the powers, too, would become unstable, all the more so if you hadn't been taught about them in the first place. It looked like they mostly slipped out of control when she was least cognizant - during sleep or unconsciousness, because now that she was awake her mind was tightly closed off from him again.

Nevertheless, it seemed as though she had been able to sense the outward intrusion regardless. Her breaths were still uneven when she raised her voice in a whisper, causing the syllables to be airy and aspirated: "You've seen...?" Lynn had indeed been able to perceive him as he had called out to her within her nightmare, so if he had been there at the end of the dream, it suggested itself he had witnessed it from the very beginning.

Piccolo's arms around her reinforced their hold involuntarily, like an underlying reaction to the vulnerable tone of that question. He'd seen something utterly inmost and personal, and it almost sounded as though she was afraid of what he might think about it. "Yes."

She froze for a moment. "All of it...?" Every horrible detail...? Every desperate emotion...?

His reply was once more an honest and simple one. "Yes." Every horrible detail. Every desperate emotion. "I'm sorry you had to go through that..." And the feeling was genuine. Nobody deserved something like that, having to undergo what she'd been through; the slavery, the mistreatment, the torture and humiliation. There was an idle, unrealizable wish of wanting to have been there, to have been able to prevent any of it... But past was uncorrectable.

Lynn didn't verbally respond - wasn't able to, all words cut off by the emotion that constricted her frail chest right then, forcing new tears to refresh the cold traces of the many she'd already spilled. She hid her face against the curvature of his neck and, with a helpless whimper, burst into soft, unrestrained crying again. She didn't know why but his simple words, that artless sympathy, the co-vibrating desire to somehow have been able to help her back at that horrendous time in her life; all of those pure, compassionate things radiating off him caused something within her to shatter. Having him emphasize, sympathize, feel for her, care for her like that forced something within her to tremble with the urge to fall apart.

At last... finally... someone knew. Knew and understood, knew and cared, knew and was willingly placing a soothing hand over the invisible, hideous wounds to stop their silent bleeding. She would never have been able to talk about the things he'd seen in the deepest, darkest corners of her mind, would have never found the strength to confide about them into anybody. But now he knew and she hadn't need to utter even a word, and it was such an overwhelming feeling of... being a little bit more free inside. Now she could cry into somebody's chest, enwrapped in someone's arms, knowing that they knew and understood the why. Now she could let that pain take over, bury her under its furious waves and fade away like a falling tide, and have somebody keeping her afloat and breathing through it. Someone to hold her through the hurt and the fear and the anger, until a ray of light would brush away that horrid veil of thorns from her eyes.

And hold her he did, listening to her quiet, heartrending crying, the broken sobs and the sorrowful whimpers, letting her small hands clutch at him in a spastic, desperate grip and simply trying to offer whatever comfort she could take in his presence. It didn't occur to him immediately and that was too bad; but eventually he lighted his ki and gingerly let the light, electric blue aura enshroud her in a thin layer, cloaking her quivering figure in a warm blanket of energy. It seemed to have a good and swift effect, the tranquil flow of his ki resonated with the erratic stream of her own, calming it - and her - down.

It was only then that he realized... that for the first time since she got here, she was having a palpable aura to begin with! He was stunned for a second; he couldn't discern a different ki signature, only a separate flow of it, but it was there. Retracting his own ki and lowering it again, he sensed for hers and found zilch. Not a flicker, nothing. But letting his ki rise and wrap itself around her again, there it was. A separate flow of energy, delicate and alive. Just to be sure, he repeated the procedure one more time. No doubt about it.

"That tingles..." Lynn uttered softly, her inflection breathy and faint, heavy affected by the emotional havoc she'd just pulled through.

"Oh, sorry." He hadn't thought about her possibly being sensitive to his experimental ki ministrations, hoping he hadn't caused her too much discomfort with it.

Unnoticed to herself, a gossamer smile livened up her pretty face as she lightly shook her head. "It's alright... I like it..." The sensation was pleasant and soothing, helping her to recompose and making her feel safe and protected. Beautiful and warm, it was unlike any other perception she'd ever experienced before.

Lifting her face, she looked at him for the first time since her tearful awakening. In the dimness within the bedroom, his skin seemed a secretive myrtle in color, and his eyes... Enigmatic pools of infinite noire, poised in their unreadable gaze. "Thank you..." She whispered, for a moment entirely mesmerized by that composed expression and the close proximity of their quite intimately entwined bodies. Physically, she hadn't really been this close to anybody ever before. The strength that held her pressed against its muscular, powerful corporeal wraps was impressive, yet harmless and protective if only for her, and perhaps only for now. Quite suddenly, the sort of tingling that settled into her was something of an entirely different kind.

"You're welcome." The reply was automatic, he was barely aware of himself speaking because he was _too_ aware _of her_ all of a sudden. The comfy snuggle of her lithe little frame against his own, the deeply aureate eyes that stared at him like spellbound and her lips seeming the color of dark, ripe cherries in the moonlit darkness around them.

It must have been an instinct, even though he couldn't deny wanting it either. Leaning down slowly, he watched her reaction; those adorable, amber-hued doe eyes that simply kept gazing on at him showed no sign of fear or discomfort. More so... they seemed to reflect a sparkle of sweet thrill, he could feel the meek excitement cause her statuesque body to tense up in his careful grasp. There were no words, just body language, asking and giving permission with not a syllable uttered.

Angling his head he could feel the heat of her alluring lips mingle with that of his own, and his heart was losing its steady rhythm, pumping hot, eager blood through his veins. What the holy hell was he doing? His brain found no logical answer but his sentiment didn't require one anyway. It was a second, a speedy palpitation, a flash of a moment and still one of the most memorable events in his entire life as he banned all distance between them, touching his lips to hers - and that charming, silky pair was the softest thing he'd ever touched, the feel of their velvety, pliant surface against his own already acutely addictive. He didn't register his arms closing their ring around her even more, gingerly bending her filigree frame further into him. He heard the delicate gasp that hitched her breath right then, the lovely sound trickling along his nerve tracts in a hitherto unknown but overly pleasant, electrifying perception.

The life-giving muscle in the frail cage of her ribs thundered a beat so loud, Lynn could have believed to have gone deaf, freezing inside and out for the exception of her dainty fingers that flexed and abruptly curled more firmly into the fabric covering his well-built chest in some instinctual drive to hold him exactly where he was, right there, with his mouth on hers, with those confusingly amazing feelings that it brought and the beautiful mess it made of her senses. It was wonderful... Why was it so wonderful? Her mind didn't bother seeking the answer, much more content with focusing on the present, her long lashes sinking slowly in enjoyment of the sensation until all she could see was a tiny, blurry crack of mingled colors while a fuzzy, prickling warmth started spreading throughout the entirely of her willowy figure which gradually relaxed in his careful and yet nigh... possessive embrace.

She didn't know how much time might have passed until they parted slowly, her head pleasantly spinning and her mind cozily dazed likely both from the undergone sensations and the mild lack of air that was now being compensated by a mildly quickened, deeper pace of breathing. She felt comfy and tired and sleepy, and wouldn't let go of his gi top as he shifted them around to lay her back down into the cushions. She kept holding on, watching his hand come up to place itself atop her smaller own, squeezing softly. All she did was give him an equally soft but perceptible pull, unwilling to lose his safeguarding presence for tonight, more so wanting to have it ever nearer.

Piccolo hesitated for a moment, ultimately pulling the blanket over Lynn's petite frame and settling next to her not underneath but atop it, her shapely body cuddling up to him as though laying together like this was something that came naturally and easily to either of them where the exact opposite should have been the case. Yet there was no room for anything but comfort and relaxation in Lynn's equally exhausted and exhilarated mind, hiding into him and tucking herself away against his sturdy form, smiling absentmindedly at the light pressure of his chin coming to rest atop the crown of her chestnut hair. They seemed to fit together so nicely, with nothing but the thin barrier of the blanket being all that separated them and idly she almost wished it wasn't there either.

She fell asleep swiftly then, sleeping soundly for the reminder of the night, with her rest remaining peaceful and serene throughout the hours to come much like that of many more who had found protection from their inner demons in the arms of another tonight.

Nightmares were frightful enemies indeed, and yet like almost any adversary they weren't impossible to defeat if you had but one helping hand to tightly grasp your own and guide you through them safely and unharmed.


	11. Legacy

Finally I got to it -laughs- I've been looking forward to this chapter for a while now, and I had quite a good time writing it.

I won't be saying all too much about it and let you read on, hoping you'll enjoy it! Off goes:

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

**Legacy**

"You want what?" Eyeing his long-time rival with clear suspicion, Vegeta narrowed his eyes, hands flexing in the confines of their white gloves.

"A sparring match. You're the strongest training partner I could ever hope to find, and well, be honest, aren't you tired of beating up droids?" Smile as carefree and sociable as ever, Goku was still mindful of his choice of words. He was treading on thin ice here and the last thing he wanted was to set off Vegeta's notoriously irascible temper. "Neither them nor the boys can provide you a real challenge." Yet anyway. Once Goten and Trunks would grow up some more, get stronger and more mature, Goku was sure both and either one of them would be more than a worthy match for their fathers.

"Why now all of a sudden? And what about your oldest brat? Isn't he priding himself on being the strongest warrior there is?" Vegeta's scowl was a frank display of how much he disliked the very idea of it, though thankfully Goku knew a more or less surefire way around it.

"Well, today's as good of a day as any, right? So I thought I'd just pop by and see if you had time. As for Gohan, he's all wrapped up in his studies since summer exams are rolling in. I got him roped into training yesterday already, and I don't want to harass him with it." That wasn't a lie, either. The boy was a teenager now, he had an own life to live, all the more so now that romance was involved. Goku would never want to impose on that, especially because he knew Gohan would never be able to say no to him. "Plus, he's got a girl now, too. That will probably beat exchanging blows with his old man anytime."

The prince snorted in a mix of both amusement and a touch of disapproval; he would likely never really understand why Gohan lacked that innate Saiyan love for fighting. Both Trunks and Goten had it, even Kakarot with all his happy-go-lucky attitude always seemed excited by the prospect of battle. He could sympathize with the whole having a girl thing he supposed, but studying? The only thing a Saiyan had to study was the art of winning a fight.

Pushing himself away from the tree trunk he had been standing leaned against in the backyard of his home, he still gave a short nod. "Fine. The spot where we first fought, in thirty minutes." With that began walking away towards the Capsule Corp. house.

Goku grinned, brightly and happily, calling after the retreating figure. "Great! See you there in half an hour, then!"

He knew what the half an hour was for and he put it to good use, briefly stopping by Korin to fetch a couple of Senzu. He went a storey up as well, sensing Piccolo in his bedroom and with the assumption that his friend was taking a rest after yesterday's training, left a word with Dende to warn the other Namekian not to worry should he feel some power levels explode soon. He repeated the process with the rest of his friends, taking a few minutes to exchange a few words with them as well, from Krillin and Eighteen, to Tien and Chaozu, Master Roshi, and Yamcha. He warned Gohan and the other two demis this morning before school already, so hopefully nobody would be alerted or come to interfere. He knew Vegeta wouldn't appreciate any interruptions and he was sure their clash would be more than perceptible to every of their friends who could sense ki.

Somewhere, Goku actually found himself getting hyped for it; he was looking forward to testing his fellow kinsman's strength and let him test Goku's own. It had been quite a while since they last fought each other and he didn't doubt that Vegeta had improved plenty, much like he himself. It was even more rousing because the prince had picked their very first battleground as their training spot, almost like a wordless challenge to the past, daring his rival to repeat his former victory.

Goku's next destination was his home, storing the tiny lifesaving legume into a travel capsule together with a spare set of attire which he was more than sure he'd need by the end of this. His last stop was the Capsule Corp, even though the prince was already gone by the time he ITed himself there. It only took a minute to do what he'd come for anyway, saying hi to Bulma and picking up a spare attire for Vegeta as well. With all the preparations completed, he focused on that familiar ki and brought two fingers to his forehead then, teleporting himself off and away, reappearing a few feet away from the older Saiyan.

"I hope you're not expecting me to take it easy on you just because it's a friendly spar, Kakarot." The elite greeted him, dressed down in the very same outfit he'd arrived on Earth in all those years back. He looked as imposing as he'd done back then, too, perhaps even more so with the demeaning smugness from back then replaced by the poised composure of now instead.

Goku's mouth twitched its corner upward in a no less confident manner. "Wouldn't want it any other way." He felt the tingle of excitement settle into his nerves, Vegeta was serious about this and that combative drive was resonating with the younger man, stirring his Saiyan nature into a wake.

Standing across from each other, face to face, both of them went Super Saiyan without twitching a muscle, watchful eyes staring into another pair which mirrored the flash of teal to replace the deep black, much like soft yellow burned out the ebony of dark hair that now stood proud and even more spiked than usual. Neither man moved, just letting their aura flare around them until they slowly started drawing on their energy, still motionless - only staring at each other while electricity began to flicker from spot to spot across their bodies.

The ground beneath their feet began to tremble, gently at first and increasingly heftier with every passing second, smaller and bigger rocks lifting into the air and getting grinded into dust if they happened to as much as touch the sun-colored glow around either of them. They still didn't move but now, there was visible tension in their bodies, visualized by the tight set of strong jaws and the veins beginning to protrude from underneath tough skin, the fabric cladding their tautening figures straining and expanding as the muscles beneath the material bulged, growing in size.

It was a medium earthquake happening around them by now, but aside from the shaking ground and splitting rocks not a sound was made, until both kis thunderspiked, the two of them abruptly coated in electrifying gold, signaling the next level of transformation. Either of them was like a ball lightning, ready to implode any given second and yet goading each other higher and higher before making a move. It all unfolded rapidly, within a split of a second as both Saiyans flickered from their spots and met high up in the air, fist to fist. It was almost something familiar, Goku was the one to go on the defense with Vegeta aggressively leading the onslaught, his hits coming hard, fast and precise but the younger man wasn't far behind, absorbing blow after blow with equally accurate blocking.

It was a mutual assessment more than it was actual fighting just now, even though all and any slip up could have heavy consequences regardless. Vegeta had certainly improved and that came as no surprise; the power behind his hits was enormous. Goku could feel the air stirring all around them with the force of the impacts, although the prince's defenses were top notch as well - none of his own kicks and punches were getting through, right from the get-go he could tell they were evenly matched. Nevertheless, he was also well-aware of the fact that neither of them was fighting at full strength yet either, by a rough estimate they both should be at around half their current transformation's overall potential. Yet when Vegeta would hit the limit on his, Goku still had an ace up his sleeve, one he didn't intend to use however. So he supposed it was best to try and not push it quite as far.

"What's wrong, Kakarot?"

An opened, white-gloved palm right in front of him, he saw the garish ivory of gathered energy before a ki-blast was fired at him from such close distance, it blinded him as it exploded into his eyes. He managed to bring both arms up to shield his face, finding himself grip-locked from behind a heartbeat later. The voice at his ear was foreboding and deictic.

"Don't space out amidst a fight with me. That could cost you dearly."

Those steely limbs were like tongs around his neck, squeezing off his air and his elbow punched backwards into nothing, realizing that his opponent was hovering upside down above him using those arms like a noose to hang him. A clever tactic and with the proper force and angle, this predicament could leave him with a broken neck, too. But thankfully, Goku's wit and instinct worked incredibly swiftly when it came to battle. Throwing his hand straight up above his head, he fired a barrage of own kis blasts, feeling the older Saiyan flicker away. He gasped for sweet, precious air and swirled around, bringing his hands into the typical position at his side for his signature Kamehameha.

"Thanks for the warning." He wheezed out through a grin, the bluish orb of force between his palms gradually growing in size.

Vegeta smirked. "It's the last one you will get." Instead of meeting the rapid ball of compressed ki, he shimmered out of the way and had fully expected Kakarot to follow right after him. Which the other man did, only not the direction the elite had thought it to be.

Instead of going after Vegeta himself, Goku went after his own fired Kamehameha, pin-balling it with another blast of energy back towards his rival. This time it was the prince who raised his arms to form a shield which the deflected Kamehameha hit straight into, engulfing him in a small cloud of smoke. It was instinct and experience more than anything else that made him blindly veer around and punch into the seeming nothingness behind him, yet instead of air he hit the blocking forearm of his adversary. They exchanged a fury of blows and flashed apart, both panting softly.

Casually, Vegeta wiped at a thin trail of blood sneaking from the corner of his mouth."I see you learned a couple of new tricks as well."

Goku chuckled, using the edge of his palm to brush at the warm crimson trickling down his brow from the laceration on his forehead. "Well, I didn't sit idly on my butt all day during my seven years in Otherworld either."

Drawing on his ki to raise his power almost to max, the prince scoffed. "I'd sure hope not." A second later he was charging onward again.

About three hours later, with the pointers nearing midday, the terrain around them looked post-apocalyptic. Craters, crushed mountains and deep cracks in the ground were all over the place and the only thing appearing messier than the landscape where the two Saiyans amidst it. Bruised, bloodied and barely covered by ragged clothes, they were right in the middle of the mayhem they were causing, the heat and the adrenalin surge of the battle forcing out the pain of cracked and broken bones, ruptured organs, torn muscles and the chafed, scraped, cut or burnt skin. The golden ki coursing through them was holding it all firmly together like superglue preventing the whole of shredded parts and pieces from falling apart. It was making either of them a titanium giant, brutally crashing together in order to see who would shatter first.

Although Goku really didn't want to see anybody shatter here and he sorta had a plan that might or might not work. He probably could have gained an upper hand if he played out his little ace but he knew that if anything, it would only make things worse and piss Vegeta off real bad, considering how competitive the other man was especially when it was Goku himself whom he competed with. So far, despite the very serious mood of this encounter, he sensed no real anger from his former nemesis, if anything he might have even dared say that Vegeta seemed to enjoy himself. Therefore he tried to bring this sparring match to a soft close, or as soft as you could end a match between two full-blooded Saiyans.

The next time Vegeta lunged forward in his characteristic forceful manner, Goku took the blow instead of dodging or blocking it; it hurt like hell, very likely snapping what ribs had already been cracked but it was okay. He saw the flicker of stun and confusion in teal eyes so much like his own, using that tenth of a second to bury his own fist in the other man's toned abdomen. The taut muscles there softened the impact enough to prevent too heavy damage and for the next tenth of a second, before the pain given and received could really settle in and incapacitated either of them for a heartbeat or two, both of them flared their energy and shot a parting ki blast into each other's faces. The force of the impact barreled them away from one another, crashing them through several debris in opposite directions.

A fair distance away from each other and thus temporarily out of each other's eyesight and earshot, either man took a breather to grunt and groan through the white-hot agony pulsating through their maltreated and yet exhilarated bodies, wiping sweat and spitting blood and struggling with their labored, coppery-flavored breath. They rose into the air slowly and simultaneously, and once face to face again, Goku didn't follow Vegeta's example as the elite began drawing on his largely depleted ki reserves to keep his transformation going. Instead the earth-raised Saiyan powered down, gold mellowing out into yellow and ultimately yielding to familiar coal-black.

"How about... a break...?" He wheezed through a smile of stark exhaustion, warily watching his rival's unreadable expression as Vegeta seemed to ponder the proposal. If the prince would strike out now, Goku might not have enough time and strength to properly defend himself which could end in quite a dire situation for him, but somewhere he knew that the other man's inherent pride would not allow him to go for a low-blow.

Indeed, after a few moments, Vegeta exhaled a prolonged breath and released his transformation as well, smirking lightly. "And there I was only starting to have fun. Your timing sucks, Kakarot."

Goku laughed out very gently with thoughtful regard to his battered chest, looking around as though in search for something. "Sorry. I just really didn't want to cause any more ruin and destruction to both the planet and ourselves."

His reply was a curt "Hmpf," that he simply decided to interpret as some sort of disgruntled agreement.

"There it is!"

Vegeta rose a brow at the unexpectedly joyful exclaim of the younger man, watching him hobble his airborne way over to something on the ground. It was the top of his gi that he had discarded somewhere during their battle - with purpose actually, because in its inner pocket that Chichi had sown onto all his training attires a long time ago hid the travel capsule carrying just what both of them needed right now.

"Here you go." He pitched a Senzu towards his fellow Saiyan warrior not little later, the prince catching the small legume in his palm that was barely halfway covered by the remains of a once white glove.

"Surprisingly smart for somebody like you." He commented off-handedly, swallowing the bean and immediately feeling the sweet sensation of fading pain as it mended broken bones, fixed ripped flesh and reconnected severed nerve tracts.

Goku's laugh was more zestful and sonorous this time, with his strength and energy restored as well. "Well, my noggin is not quite as hollow as most people like to think." Before he went on to switch his rags for a new attire, he tossed a set of clothes to his training partner as well. "I even stopped by your place before getting here. Bulma told me that if one of us ended up dying, she would kill the other one herself."

Vegeta chortled. "Sounds like her." For some reason or the other, he indeed was in a relatively good mood. It might have still been the aftermaths of his yesterdays conversation with Trunks, or maybe the spar had done him more good than he could admit to. It truly was nice to get away from training droids and face off against somebody who could more than equal his own strength. That could have probably been the case if he'd ever sparred with Piccolo and perhaps even Gohan, but he would never asked and they had never offered. Kakarot however...

They changed in silence and throughout the entirety of the time he couldn't get those words out of his head. _My noggin is not quite as hollow as most people like to think. _He always called his fellow kinsman a fool and an idiot, an oaf, an imbecile, a carefree cretin. It seemed to stick with the younger Saiyan like some others designations stuck to Vegeta himself - killer, aggressor, prick, antisocial choleric... Both of them bore a stigma in the eyes of somebody else. Also in each other's?

Remembering his conversation with Trunks yesterday as well... Those words, deliberations, insights... they were not those of a fool.

_I had asked uncle Goku yesterday... Why the two of you had fought. He'd told me... You were simply very upset, and angry. He said you wanted revenge... and that had blinded you. You didn't care what it would cost, you wanted to achieve your goal. He said that is your nature._

No. No, Kakarot saw him differently. He _saw_ him. Maybe not everything, but crucial parts of what was essential. How? Did he carry parts of it within his own heart, mind, character as well? Now, today... what was really the purpose he had wanted this sparring match for?

"Vegeta?"

Blinking, addressed man raised his gaze to meet the astute one of his taller, younger opposite. The expression in those eyes just now was not that of a fool either. "You talked with Trunks the other day." He said, seemingly sudden and out of place, but somewhere he had simply followed the trail of his thoughts. Of course, the confusion on Kakarot's face was still warranted.

"Uhm... yeah. He seemed a bit upset that you hadn't come along to our little fishing trip. So I tried to cheer him up a little."

The prince snorted softly. "By telling him about Freeza and the destruction of our home planet? Or by trying to find redeeming words for what I've done in the aftermaths of those events?"

Having tied the knot of his navy-blue belt, Goku slowly let his hands sink, onyx eyes attentive as he observed the other man. The sentence sounded accusatory and yet the undertone of that sentiment was... halfhearted, in a sense. There was no typical anger, and he didn't know what to make of it. "I just, well." Would Vegeta take offense if he told the truth? "I didn't want to-"

The answer resulted out of the older man's words all by itself as he interrupted: "Make me look bad? So you tried to make it sound better?" There was no offense in them, just... some sort of somber calmness. "You're the same as Bulma, she tries to find pretty words for it as well. Hell, when I sat down with him yesterday, attempting to tell the truth, I found myself paraphrasing back and forth just the same." Sitting down onto the ground beneath a big, crushed rock, the shadow of the chosen shelter shielded him well from the consistently brightening sunlight.

Walking over, Goku plopped down next to the prince, both of them staring off into the distance and the destruction their training match had caused to the scenery. "I don't badmouth friends, Vegeta. I know you hate the very thought of it, but personally, I consider you a comrade. I would never say a bad word about you in front of your kid." Nobody of their little gang ever would. Goku knew that not all of his friends were as welcoming of Vegeta, that some tolerated the elite there because they were considerate of Goku and of Bulma, but also because all of them were decent people. They could accept. They could forgive.

"Yes, I know. And sometimes it takes the piss out of me, your whole viewpoint on this." That whole... counting him as a friend thing. "I also don't need anybody justifying what I did in front of others."

Curling one leg up, Goku placed his chin atop his bent knee. "If you want me to apologize for it, I can. But it wouldn't be sincere."

Vegeta snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the wall of rock behind him. "I don't need your apologies. Or your verbal protection." He paused for a moment. "But I can accept the latter when it's for Trunks' sake." Not only from his lover, but from his fellow Saiyan, too. Kakarot had tried to be tactful and subtle about it, and going ballistic on him for it really seemed... petty.

A small smile twitched Goku's lips. "Thank you." It was almost amusing, how Vegeta would manage to turn anything done in his favor by others into something that sounded like he just did a favor for them instead. His pride was indeed a mighty amazing thing.

They sat in silence for another short while, until the earth-raised Saiyan broke it quietly again. "Goten mentioned something very curious yesterday afternoon. He said, Trunks told him he had a real aunt and uncle out in space somewhere."

Vegeta chuckled lightly. "The brat's got a big mouth. I suppose soon enough everyone will know." Not that he was desperately trying to make a secret out of it anyway. He simply never brought it up.

Expression in a mix of disbelief and astonishment, Goku turned to look at the other man. "So it's true? You have siblings out there somewhere?" There were more Saiyans out there? The thought was so... strange, and yet oddly heartwarming.

The elite shrugged his shoulders mildly. "I might. I haven't heard from them in ages and all things considered, they might have long forgotten me already." He had made it clear back then, that he didn't care for any alive relatives. It was only logical for them to discard his existence, too; not that cutting already feeble bonds came at all hard for Saiyans anyway. However, he hadn't expected the response his statement would elicit out of the man sitting next to him.

"At least you can still hope. I killed the last of my kin with my own two hands." There was remorse and notes of muted bitterness in that soft, self-admonishing sentence.

This time, it was on Vegeta to turn his head and stare. "Radditz?" He watched his long-time rival nod faintly and huffed somewhat incredulously. "I can't believe you would feel guilty for killing somebody who tried to kill you." It was ludicrous. If anyone made attempts on his life, Vegeta would never have any qualms about kicking their ass six ways from Sunday.

But the sadness in that voice was real, and the heartache that co-vibrated was genuine: "He was my brother. When I look at my own boys, or at Goten and Trunks... I just-"

"He didn't give you a choice, Kakarot." The older Saiyan cut off, and still there was something close to... sympathy in his determined interruption. "He was an excellent fighter and he used to be a great soldier, but after the destruction of Vegetasei he was a troubled man." _Much like I've been_, he'd almost added, but held that comment back. Even though he suspected that Kakarot could guess it either way. "None of us was the same after that. We weren't a particularly friendly bunch to begin with, but under Freeza the rest of our goodwill and good sense had eventually evaporated as well."

Both of them were looking out into the distance once again, and something within Vegeta's chest couldn't help constricting at the quiet, forlorn request - nigh a plea - that passed his fellow Saiyan's lips in almost a whisper just then.

"Vegeta... Could you tell me about them? Our planet, our people... My brother...?"

Casting a sideward glance at the troubled existence beside him, for the first time since they'd met as enemies in battle Vegeta really caught a glimpse of the man beneath. He'd never really bothered to look but just now, right here, he _saw_ the other Saiyan the way Kakarot had seemed able to see the prince himself.

_Son Goku_ was at home here and he loved the planet, the people, he'd grown up as one of them and they accepted him as willingly as he accepted them. But some part of him was still feeling out of place; uprooted, lost. Some piece in some small, hidden corner deep down inside was still amiss. His true heritage, his real home, his real parents... they were all blank spaces, an emptiness that would hurt from time to time regardless the happiness surrounding him because a small part of him was and always would be _Kakarot_.

That identity he had never hoped to shape up and understand, simply feeling it there sometimes but unable to give it an image. Vegeta was the only link he had to it and for a moment, the elite was stunned by an emotion he hadn't really thought he'd ever feel. Duty. Responsibility. Obligation, even. As a prince to a vassal, as an elder to a youngster, as a leader to a soldier... a kinsman to a kinsman. There was a legacy the two of them shared; traditions, customs, beliefs... a kinship. Knowledge he could, should, had to pass on. Values and morals and ideals that might not have been good and just and right all the way through, but that still belonged to both of them. Kakarot deserved to know. He had a right to.

"I guess that would be only fair." He thus replied placidly after a long moment of silence. "I don't know all too much myself, but that which I can remember and that which Nappa and Radditz would sometimes tell me about... plenty of it connects to you as well. You and I were sort of intertwined long before we ever met face to face."

Tilting his head slightly, Goku watched the other man with an expression of anxious curiosity. He hadn't held much hope that Vegeta would grant him his request but it seemed as though the elite was actually willing to share, and it made him feel grateful and nervous both. Grateful for the opportunity to get to know his past and history, and nervous in the prospect of just what that past and history might look like.

"Your father, Bardock, was the leader of one of our best elite squads. Your mother was a member of it, too, and even though she was a below average fighter and too gentle for a Saiyan, your dad and she had been on the same team since they were kids. So he had insisted she remained a member of his squad. My father valued yours enough to permit that, and I suppose eventually your parents had Radditz. He was born a strong kid with a high power level, so it was clear that he'd go far. By the time you were conceived, he was already touring the galaxy with Nappa and myself."

Kakarot's heritage was in fact as noble as a Saiyan's could be, it was just him who had been regarded unkindly by fate, much like Vegeta's own younger brother had. Even more unkindly in fact, because... "Your mother died not that much later, during childbirth."

Goku's eyes narrowed lightly in upcoming, sorrowful realization. "Childbirth..." That could only mean one thing. "Me...?" He'd been the thing that killed her, coming into this world?

Vegeta nodded. "Yes. Atop of that your power level was indeed one of the lowest ever seen, and I don't think Radditz ever got over the fact that his mother died for a reason like that." A lot of Saiyans had held little regard and affection for their parents but they had been no strangers to it either. Vegeta hadn't ever really had any deep connections to his own folks, but Radditz had been different. He had loved his parents and even if his pride would always hide it well, in certain moments it shone through very clearly.

"You were to be sent away and I suppose seeing Bardock fight that decision tooth and nail only festered his grudge against you. It was... unusual, by Saiyan standards. No other father had ever cared much for a weak kid when one was born to him, most were glad to get rid of what was considered low class Saiyans and a disgrace. My own father was much the same. If my mom hadn't stepped in and stepped up, Tarble would have ended up just like you."

The words were like small revelations presented to Goku's rapidly working mind, constructing vague personalities of people he hadn't known but had an irrevocable bond with all the same. A gentle mother unloving of fighting and death. A father unwilling to let go of his son no matter of everybody around him dooming his decision. A brother who blamed his sibling for the death of one parent, and the resolve of the other. His heart was beginning to ache, pumping a quiet sense of woe throughout him.

"The king got furious. He demoted your dad and stripped him of all ranks, threatening to kill both him and his sons if he continued his resistance. I suppose keeping Radditz alive and sending you off into space was still better than getting all three of you killed, so Bardock complied."

Dropping his head, the earth-raised Saiyan shook it faintly in some sort of mute remorse. He would have never guessed... He'd gotten his mother killed, his father relegated and his brother infuriated with him by simply coming into this world. Nonetheless... it was proof that he had been loved by those parents he had never had a chance to meet, and it hurt. It hurt to know that neither them nor his sibling were alive anymore for him to say 'thank you' and 'I'm sorry' to.

"The three of us were on a mission in space when Radditz got a call from him. Bardock was telling us not to return home, that Freeza was planning on destroying the planet. He had tried to warn my father and everybody else, but after everything that had happened nobody would listen to him." It was one of the major reasons Vegeta was so disgruntled with Kakarot as well even if you couldn't really blame Kakarot for it. Still, his father was the reason the prince himself was alive; it almost made him obligated to the man's son.

Moreover... Bardock had been the only Saiyan to recognize the threat. A demoted soldier having more insight and understanding than the king himself... Was there a greater disgrace for a royal lineage? Watching out for his race and people... Bardock had been doing a better job at it than the ruling monarch himself and Vegeta, too, made the same mistake back then. As a prince, he should have at least lent an ear and listened, but...

"Neither me nor Nappa believed him either, but Radditz did. He managed to convince me to delay our return by a day, and it saved our lives." Otherwise Freeza would have likely blown the planet up together with them just as well. The Icejin hadn't really cared, overly amused over what he'd called 'a lucky coincidence' after having learnt about it. "That was the first and last time I've seen your dad - on the communicator in our ship. You're the spitting image of him, too. As is your youngest." It was remarkable how much they looked like him, not unlike Tarble and Vegeta himself seemed to mirror their own father. Was fate trying to tell them something? He wouldn't know.

"Nappa was furious when we faced Freeza thereafter; if I hadn't stopped him, he might have gotten us all killed. But Radditz was far more upset over something entirely else. Zarbon had flaunted to him about how your father had tried to stop Freeza all but himself and what a sad show it had been, how the Icejin had blown him to smithereens with the energy ball he'd tossed at the planet itself." Alone against an army and the space tyrant himself... How bitter would it be that an iconic scene like that, fighting for the sake of their race, would have a common foot soldier depicted where it had been the duty of a king. But instead, his own father's blindness had been their demise.

"Years later he'd eventually learnt that you were alive, found out where you were and blasted off to Earth. Wouldn't obey my direct order to stay." Vegeta shook his head, as though still disbelieving of that past disobedience. "I suppose he blamed you for the ruin of your family, for your mother's death and partly also for what had happened to our planet, saying that if your father hadn't discredited himself by trying to protect you, maybe others would have listened when he'd tried to warn them about Freeza. He claimed that he wanted to see if you were really worth it all, and was gone. Not that either Nappa or I had cared too much for it back then." Not until hearing that Radditz had learnt of the Dragonballs anyway.

"He was angry, all three of us were. Perpetually, for years." It had been building within, enhanced by helplessness and their unfavorable, humiliating position in Freeza's service, disfiguring their hearts and minds until all that had remained were fury and the ruthlessness of killers. "I guess he blew the gasket entirely after witnessing what you've become when he landed here. Frankly, back then, I would have likely killed him myself if he'd succeeded in killing you and returned, for plain insubordination."

Vegeta fell silent, staring on ahead at the scenery before him. He didn't need to look in order to feel the upset radiating from his fellow Saiyan next to him, it was obvious and somewhere a given how much everything of what he'd just heard was afflicting Kakarot, his voice stifled by balled up emotions pressuring his chest as he let it resound.

"I never knew any of this..." If he had, back then... If he'd known... If he'd know... "I wish I would have talked to him... I wish he would have talked to me. I wish he'd told me..." Perhaps everything would have been different. Perhaps he would still be alive. But all Radditz had spoken about was death and destruction and that stupid Saiyan pride... But it didn't change the way Goku felt about it now; dreadfully awful. He'd killed his brother for all the wrong reasons.

Vegeta shook his head lightly, speaking quietly and with a note of resignation. "Much like myself, he was blinded as well, Kakarot." He didn't know if it was an attempt at making the other man feel a little bit better about it; it was not on him to try and offer comfort. And yet... and yet. "It's a trait all of us share, we let our anger get the best of us. Anger turns to rage, rage to hatred, hatred into death and destruction. It's the flaw of Saiyan nature, our pride and ego, our superiority complex... we seek the fault in everybody else, never in ourselves. We blame all and everything, but never our own bigotry. And once we get an idea stuck inside our heads, no matter how wrong and ridiculous it might be, not seldom only death can ever convince us otherwise."

The remorse and aimless anger transpiring right there, was his own. Not over the way the last of them had found their deaths or lived still, but over the way his entire race had led their existence. They could have been so much more... Instead, they were now fading into the never-ending trail of history as another failed species soon to be forgotten. "Sometimes I wish I could have-" He didn't finish, his poised fury without a target. So stupid... so, so stupid; the way the strong, proud Saiyan people had found their end.

"If only the you of now could have been the king of then." Goku remarked softly, raising his eyes up to the endless skies above them, his sad, contemplative gaze trying to pierce the firmament and steal a glimpse at the vastness of the galaxy beyond. "You would have changed it all." He didn't know how, but he knew it regardless. Just now, the prince had spoken like a true king and his sagacity in that one moment was worthy of a true monarch who would have the necessary vision and wisdom to lead his populace to prosperity.

Vegeta on his part, chuckled cheerlessly. "By doing what? Bringing humanity to Saiyans?" That was silly. Saiyans would never, should never be humans.

The expression on Goku's features was solemn, and gently introspective. "No... By giving heart to your people. By showing them a different way. A better way." The way that both of them had experienced, adopted, accepted and comprehended by now, and there was nothing human about it. "Emotions, compassion, togetherness... trust, love, family, home... those aren't the traits of a human race, Vegeta. It wasn't invented by them, it's not exclusive to them. Just like strength, pride, ego, honor isn't exclusive to Saiyans either. Those are all traits of any living, concise being, felt throughout the galaxy, the universe. Our species simply chose to ignore and discard some of those traits and focus on others. The wrong ones, perhaps. That's why there's possibly only two of us left."

The elite was silent for a moment, looking somberly reflective. "It doesn't matter now. It's too late." He could change nothing for their dead race now. Nor was there a future, pure-blooded generation to hold a strong leader's guiding hand over. Their legacy, their heirs, albeit dearly beloved, were but demis now and the further their lineage would go, the more that Saiyan blood would continue to thin out and fade away.

Goku turned his head and focused his gaze on the Saiyan prince for a long moment, pensive and momentous, and when he raised his voice again it was quiet but firm, traced by a hopeful conviction. "Who knows. Your kingdom might yet come one day, Vegeta."


End file.
